


Enthroned in Velvet

by speccygeekgrrl



Series: MST3K Alternate Universes [23]
Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: ...or is it?, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Dates, Banter, Bathing/Washing, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bodily Fluids, Bruises, Butt Slapping, Caretaking as Courtship, Celebrations, Chastity Device, Come Eating, Cooking, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Developing Relationship, Domme Kinga, Edging, F/M, Face Slapping, Favors, Femdom, Flogging, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Foot Jobs, Hair Washing, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Helpfulness, Honesty, Honesty because of medicinal drug use, House Cleaning, Interrogation, Jonah being kind of a jerk, Kink Negotiation, Kinky professionally but vanilla-ish at home, Love Confessions, M/M, Marking, Max and Jonah continuing to be a bit prickly with each other, Max not letting himself be walked all over, Medical Procedures, Medicinal Drug Use, Multi, Neckties as standins for collars, Pegging, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Protectiveness, Punk, Relationship Negotiation, Self-Esteem Issues, Service Submission, Sex Toys, Snowballing, Speechlessness, Suit Kink, Suits, Surprising sweetness despite the dynamic, Undressing, Vaginal Fingering, Watersports, What's the opposite of humiliation play because that's what this is, d/s dynamics, it's kind of opposite of 50 Shades cause he's rich but subby as hell, kinky fluff, okay it's not really a date, or honestly more like unwrapping him, sub Max
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-12 05:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 38,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17461580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speccygeekgrrl/pseuds/speccygeekgrrl
Summary: Kinga's got two months left before she defends her dissertation, (hopefully) earns her doctorate, and leaves her career of professional domination behind her having served its purpose of getting her through school without student debt. The deadline spurs her favorite client to make her an offer she can't refuse for an arrangement that will leave them both happy for the amount of time they have left together, but neither of them realize the effect the time they're about to be spending together will have on them, or that they're not the only ones who'll feel its impact.





	1. This Isn't Pretty Woman

**Author's Note:**

> This plot bunny attacked when I was reading through a list of AU prompts by [veronicabunch over on Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/veronicabunch/tagged/ronnie%20prompts%20masterlist) and one under the sex worker column caught my eye: "I’ve become a regular client of yours and I want to know what it would cost to be your only client."
> 
> Of course, that's too simple, so I had to give them a deadline to work against, and she's got a vanilla relationship to take into consideration, and a whole assortment of kinks will be sprinkled in because I'm also using this fic as a Kink Bingo line fill, but I haven't reached all the kinks in this chapter, so I'll list them in a note at the end when I finish the fic. (which, I know, never make an estimate of time, but it should be soonish because I'm really enjoying writing this one.)
> 
> There's a soundtrack [here on Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/user/speccygeek/playlist/4pcgrGHM7D3ajyLxjtoO7Q?si=2_-DjFCrRyKwrtyLH6BcyA) if you like music to go along with it.
> 
> Thanks to NightfireAdamante for help with the title! I still used the godforsaken terrible one I had as a chapter title, lol.

"Happy anniversary, Mistress," Max said, offering Kinga a bouquet of white roses edged in red as soon as she walked through the door. Her brows shot up, and he added a little sheepishly, "I've been seeing you for two years now. I thought— sorry."

"Don't be sorry, sweetness," she said, and accepted the flowers to bury her nose in them. "Oh, these are beautiful. Thank you."

"You're welcome. You said you liked this variant, I've been waiting for the right moment to get them for you."

"Oh, you remembered." She leaned down to kiss his cheek, and he smiled at her. "Is it two years today?"

"Yes, that's why I wanted to see you tonight even though it's not our usual night," he said, taking the flowers back to put them in the vase he'd left on his coffee table and then taking her coat when she unbuttoned it to reveal the plunging neckline of her favorite dark red leather corset and the golden key hanging caught between her breasts, easing it off her shoulders and folding it over his arm. "I actually had a question to ask you." She turned to face him, finding his cheeks flushed, which wasn't unusual for him but was unusual this early in their evenings together.

"Well? What is it?" Max opened his mouth and then shut it again, gaze falling to the floor, and Kinga shook her head. "Do I need to pry it out of you?" she asked, half-threat and half-purr.

"I need to work up to it," he said, "it's... it's important, I don't want to just blurt it out."

"That's fine. Go hang up my coat." Kinga couldn't help but smile at the way he carried himself as he obeyed her orders. Two years ago he'd been an insecure mess at the end of his rope who'd called a dominatrix to impose some kind of order on some small part of his life, but he'd found confidence in submission that extended past the bounds of their meetings— initially in hotel rooms, but they'd been meeting here in his expensive condo for the better part of those two years. He looked a little more grounded when he came back.

"Would you like a glass of wine, my Queen?"

"That'd be lovely." She sat on his couch and picked up the flowers again to breathe them in. Of all her clients, Max was by far the sweetest, so attentive to even the most offhanded comments about what she liked. They never saw each other without him giving her some small but meaningful gift, above and beyond her pricey fee for her time and attention. He returned to offer her a glass of her favorite chardonnay and knelt by her feet when she accepted it. "Good boy." She carded her fingers through his curly hair and tugged gently, and his eyes slid shut with a sigh. "Now, do we need to talk our way around to your question, or...?"

"How's your dissertation going?" he asked, looking up at her over the wire rims of his glasses, and she studied him as she sipped her wine.

"I'm nearly done with it."

"The first time I saw you, you said that you did this sort of work so you wouldn't have to take out student loans." The backs of his fingers brushed against her ankle. Kinga moved one foot to rest between his legs, the pointed toe of her red stiletto pressed against his crotch, and he drew in a shaky breath.

"Yes. And it worked. I won't have any debt from school once I earn my doctorate, if everything goes right in two months."

"Does that mean you're going to stop seeing clients when you're finished?" Oh, there was fear in his eyes he was trying his best to restrain from his voice. Kinga tilted her head and gave him an inscrutably level look.

"That’s the plan."

"Well, if—" Max cut himself off with a huff of annoyance at himself, looking down at her foot.

"Max." She put a single finger under his chin to force him to meet her gaze. "What's your question?"

"If you're going to stop seeing everyone in a couple of months, what would it cost for me to be the only person you see until you stop?" Kinga blinked, and Max added hastily, "I know— I know it's going to be a lot. The price doesn't matter, I can pay whatever you ask, I just— I'd like to see you as much as I can before I can't any more."

"I'm— going to have to do some math to figure that out," Kinga said, taken aback both by his request and by how pleased she was by it. "How often is 'as much as you can' in your mind?"

"That's up to you," he said. "I don't know how often you do this sort of work in general, only how often you’ve seen me. If you have a spreadsheet or something that tracks your monthly income, I'll match whatever you've been making."

"You know this isn't going to change anything about our dynamic," she said, and his brows furrowed.

"Changing our dynamic now kind of defeats the purpose of building it over the past two years, doesn't it?"

"I don't mean _that_ dynamic. I mean... it's not going to make me keep seeing you after I decide I'm done with this line of work. This isn't Pretty Woman, you're not going to get the sex worker to fall in love with you. I have a boyfriend."

"Yes, I know," Max said patiently. "It'd be nice if we could keep in touch as friends, but I'm not expecting you to leave him for me or anything stupid and hopelessly romantic like that. I'm not a homewrecker. He makes you happy, and I'm in favor of whatever makes you happy. I'd just… I’d like it if I was one of the things that made you happy, enough for you to want to stay in contact after you're done with me in a professional capacity."

"Oh," Kinga said, and she sat back on the couch and put a finger to her lips as she studied him. He met her eyes for a moment and then looked down again at the contrast of her red shoe against his khaki slacks. She tapped her toes against him twice, not hard. "Did I tell you to look away?"

"No, Mistress," he said, looking back up to find a smile curving her lips. "Forgive me."

"I'd rather punish you for it," she said. "After this conversation is over. So. You want to be my sole focus for the remainder of my career as a Domme? Honestly, it's an appealing thought. I do enjoy the time I spend with you. You're a sweet man and I have fun during our sessions. And it would certainly make things simple for me.”

“So… you’ll consider it?” he asked, trying not to look too excited.

“The cost doesn’t matter to you?”

“Do I have something better to spend my money on than bliss?” She slapped his cheek lightly, and he bit his lip. “Whatever you want from me. I’ll even pay you up front, if you like. Name your price.”

“Twenty-five thousand,” she said, just to see how he’d react.

“Sure.” He didn’t seem fazed at all, didn’t so much as blink at the sum she named.

“Seriously?” The thought of having that much money at once made her head spin. She lived comfortably, but she’d never had that much in her bank account at any point in her life.

“You know what I do for a living and you know the kind of life I lead. I don’t know what you think I’m spending my salary on, but I promise you, I can manage to pay you that without even having an impact on my day to day life. Well, it would have an impact on my day to day life, I’d be seeing you, and that’s exactly the kind of change I’d spend any amount of money on.” 

“Oh,” she said.

“So how much of your time would that get me?”

“Four nights a week, ninety minutes a night.”

“Is that negotiable?”

“Make an offer, but don’t expect me to accept it.”

“Two hours a night, but the extra thirty minutes are just for aftercare, and I’ll give you thirty thousand.” She covered her mouth with one hand just to keep him from seeing the full extent of her shock, but she couldn’t control her eyes widening. 

“You really value my cuddling that highly?”

“Knowing that I’m not going to get any more of it once my time’s up? Yes. Absolutely. If there’s a fixed end point to my— my happiness, then I’d like to fit as much of it as I can in before then.” 

Kinga swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. It was one thing to have him call her Mistress or Queen, but it was a whole other thing for him to set such a price on nothing more complicated or kinky than her holding him close and petting his hair after a scene was done. “That’s— ahem. That’s going to necessitate some changes to our structure, you know. Chastity play isn’t exactly effective if I’m unlocking you every other night.”

“Oh, I don’t expect you to unlock me every other night.”

“So… what do _you_ think is going to happen, then?” Max looked down, not in avoidance but in thought, and she tried to maintain her Domme composure while his gaze was off her because that composure was the only thing keeping her from breaking into hysterical laughter or overwrought tears at being so blatantly treasured. 

“Well, four nights a week… are they specific nights, or just any four?”

“Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Weekend nights are for Jonah.”

“Of course.”

“And Mondays are my yoga class.”

“Well… We could keep Sundays as usual, since that’s already our night. Tuesdays could be service nights? You could just tell me to do whatever you want me to. Not even sexual stuff, I could do your laundry or clean your house or wash your car or make you dinner or, I don’t know, whatever would make you happy to tell me to do. I’m a really domestic person and I never have anyone else to use those skills on. I’d be happy to do anything you told me to.”

“You’d pay me for the privilege of doing my household chores,” she said in disbelief, and Max huffed a laugh.

“I’d pay you for the illusion of being a useful part of your life, yes.”

“It’s hardly an illusion,” she said, reaching down to cup his cheek and turn his face back up to her. “I appreciate the role you play in my life.” His eyes crinkled with self-deprecating amusement behind his glasses.

“The role of the masochistic submissive? Oh, yeah, I’m sure you don’t have a dozen of those.” She slapped his cheek again, a little harder this time.

“Watch your tone with me, Maximilian.”

“I apologize, my Queen. My disrespect was toward myself, not toward you.”

“And what have I told you about disrespecting yourself when you’re under my care?”

“I’m not to do it.”

“I’m not going to become more lax about my rules for you toward the end of our journey together. I’m going to become more strict about them.”

“Yes, of course, Mistress.”

“If you start slipping into misbehavior now, I’m going to feel like the time I spent training you how to act right was wasted.” He looked stricken by her words more than he had by her hand, and he cast his eyes down.

“I’m sorry, Mistress, I don’t want you to feel that way. You’ve had a transformative effect on me and I’m beholden to you for that.”

“When I met you…” Kinga threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his head up. “You were a shamefaced, timid little bullying victim who believed every bad thing he was ever told about himself and repeated them ad nauseum.” The only reason he met her eyes was because she forced him to face her, and she frowned at him. “Don’t tell me that all the value you’ve shown me that you understand you hold was just a lie you told me to please me. You know better than that now, or you should.”

“I let myself forget for a moment.”

“And do you let yourself forget as soon as I’m not in your line of sight any more? _Have_ I made a difference in you, or do you only act like there’s a difference when I can see you?”

“You have, I swear. You’ve made such a difference. I’ve…” Max swallowed hard, lips trembling before he pressed them together to take a steadying breath. “I don’t say those things to myself nearly as much any more, and I don’t say them out loud at all. I’m so, so sorry. I was trying to make a joke, and it was a stupid one. Please forgive me for my error.” Kinga let go of his curls, but he held himself still, eyes fixed on her in supplication.

“Your joke implied that you’re somehow common and worthless to me,” she said, pausing until he nodded. “Do you know how many people I’ve seen in my work as a Domme?”

“Uh… a lot?” She scowled. “Hundreds?”

“I’ve been doing this for four years. Hundreds is correct. And do you know how many I’ve seen for as long as I’ve seen you?”

“Several?” he hazarded, and she held up three fingers. “Oh… that few?”

“Do you know why I keep seeing you, Max?”

“Because my checks keep clearing?” She slapped his cheek again, harder still, and he winced. “Because… because you see some worth in me?”

“Yes. Because I see the worth in you. You’re not the only person who can pay my fee. You’re not even the only person who could keep paying my fee for as long as you have. But you are the only person I’ve seen who’s flourished so remarkably under my influence.” His cheek was pink from the slaps, and she caressed it gently, voice softening. “You’re different than you were when I met you. Or, I thought you were.”

“I am. I swear, I am.” 

“Then prove it, sweetness. I never want to hear you devalue yourself again.” 

“I won’t let you down, my Queen.” He pressed his cheek into her hand. She leaned down to press her lips to his forehead.

“I believe you.” His eyes fell to the deep cut of her cleavage and the key nestled between her breasts as she straightened up, and she smirked slightly. “So. The usual on Sunday, service on Tuesday, and what’s the rest of the week in your imagination?”

“Oh!” Max blinked a couple of times, dark eyes dazed when they lifted to hers again, having lost his train of thought in the midst of her displeasure with him. “Wednesday… you could spend Wednesday leaving marks on me? I’d, um, I’d like it if you hurt me for that long, that regularly. Especially if you’d be spending so much more time soothing me afterwards. We haven’t ever really spent as much time with you hurting me as I’ve wished we had. I think I’d like having extended scenes where that’s the point instead of being the punishment.”

“Wednesday for pain? Sure. And Thursday?”

“If I’m good all week, maybe you could unlock me on Thursday?” 

“And what if you’re not good enough?”

“Then I’ll do my penance for not pleasing you well enough, so I don’t go the whole weekend in your disfavor. Oh, _consequences_. Thursday is for consequences. Whether good or bad ones.”

“I like that,” Kinga purred. “I like that a lot. Well, Max, today’s a Thursday… are you ready for the consequences of your actions?” 

“I hope so,” he breathed, wide eyed and hanging on her words.

“I accept your terms. Gladly. Would you like to negotiate this in more detail, or…?” He shook his head firmly and she trailed off.

“No. I’m fine with putting myself in your hands. I trust you to respect my limits if I tell you we’ve reached them. I don’t need to put restrictions on how you treat me as long as that’s true.”

“Good. Very good.” Kinga’s head was spinning. She’d expected none of this when Max had invited her over, all she’d known was that she always left their scenes smiling from how sweet he was in his submission and that she’d been eager to see him on an unusual day because of it. 

Her entire perspective of the next two months had been yanked suddenly to the right: instead of dealing with a different client each night, the foibles and flaws of each needing to be accounted for, she got the pleasure of being overpaid in advance to cater to one man who was the furthest thing from difficult to handle. She could afford to do nothing but finish her dissertation and prepare to defend it, relish the hours she spent dominating Max, and enjoy her free time with her amazing boyfriend. 

She moved her foot back to the floor and stood up. “Come on, dear heart,” she said, and he followed her through his condo to the reason she met him in his own home: the dungeon room he’d set up and equipped shortly after meeting her, full of implements of pain and pleasure that she’d used on him, or that he wanted her to use on him that they hadn’t gotten to yet. He’d insisted on purchasing his own equipment after having a skin reaction to her leather cuffs that had been stored with a latex harness; Max found it preferable to spend his money on things he could enjoy rather than on hospital visits and antihistamines to deal with his severe allergies to her equipment, and Kinga loved the variety of toys and tools he begged her to manipulate him with. “Clothes off, sweetness.”

“Yes, Mistress!” She walked over to a set of drawers to retrieve her favorite cock ring to use on him as he efficiently stripped behind her, already with a clear idea of what she wanted to do with him tonight. He folded his clothes neatly and set his glasses on top of the pile, squinting just a little in their absence. 

Max was waiting for her in perfect position when she turned back to him: feet shoulder width apart, hands clasped at the small of his back, spine straight and chin lifted. Kinga stalked in front of him and smiled, always thrilled by the way she towered over him in her heels. “Good boy,” she purred, grazing her fingers against his round cheek before she reached down to handle the cage locked around his cock. “Want me to free you?” 

“Yes, _please_ , my Queen.” She pulled the key on its delicate golden chain over her head and swung it back and forth. Max's eyes followed the hypnotic motion, wide and dark and completely enthralled until she caught the key in her hand and he blinked. 

“Do you deserve to be unlocked?” she asked teasingly, a smirk playing on her lips. He swallowed and bit his lip. 

“No, Mistress. I said something that displeased you. I don't deserve it.”

“Very responsible of you. Don't you think that you've bought your way back into my good graces?” 

“...No?” he ventured. “I have to face the consequences of my actions.”

“Yes, you do. But I'll be a little bit gracious and unlock you before I beat you.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” Kinga didn't need to look to unlock the cage, and anyways she cherished the look in Max's eyes the instant she freed him, the relief and the hope and the overwhelming need to please her. She set the cage aside and paced around him slowly, inflicting her nails down his spine and making him shiver, glancing down to find him half hard already from that simple touch. She snapped the leather band of the ring around the base of his cock and gave him a quick, firm stroke that brought him to attention before letting go of him. 

“Oh, Max,” she sighed. His brows knitted anxiously. “You really have been doing so well. And I understand that you were trying to make a joke with what you said. But I don't like it at all when you imply that you're nothing special.”

She walked over to a rack of whips and floggers, fingers dancing over the handles before she lifted one of the softer floggers, velvet strips with knots tied in them to add a sting. She wanted to be good to him tonight, since he'd singlehandedly improved the next two months of her life which had promised to be difficult ones. A small punishment for his self-deprecating joke, and then a sweet reward to match the pet name she'd given him so soon after they met. When she turned back to him, his eyes widened at the sight of her choice, but he didn't say anything. 

“Over the bench, sweetness,” she said, and he went obediently, presenting his plump rump for her relatively tender mercies. She flicked the flogger gently, just to get his attention, velvet tails kissing the backs of his thighs. His toes curled and he gasped quietly. She grinned to herself and set about alternating sharp strikes with dragging the velvet all over his bare back and bottom. “You are special, you know,” she said conversationally, and delivered a bare handed slap right on the softest part of his ass. He yelped and twitched back into her touch. “You're special to me. Regardless of what anyone, including you, thinks about you.”

“Y-yes, Mistress,” he said, lifting his head only to let it fall again when she struck him again on the other side, leaving her diminutive handprint marked in pink on his creamy skin. 

“I thought we'd spent the past two years changing the way you think about yourself.” 

“To be fair, it's hard to undo three decades and change of negative self talk,” Max said, and she put the flogger down on his back and filled her hands with his hips, nails digging into them but not cruelly. “You've done a lot more to help me than my therapist has, my Queen.”

“Oh, have I? And how's that?” She left a set of parallel scratches from the crests of his hips around and down the curves of his ass, and he whimpered and trembled. 

“You, oh… You gave me my confidence back.”

“Then why would you ever say something so stupid as claiming you're anything but precious to me?” 

“ _Oh_ …” He put a hand on the back of his neck to try to hide the flush that overtook him at her words, and she knocked it away and carded her fingers into his curls to pull his head back. “I'm… I’m not a smart man.”

“Bullshit. You're the head of IT for an international corporation. They don't hand that job title out to fools.” 

“I wasn't thinking about myself. I wanted to make you laugh. I love it when you laugh and I thought my stupid joke would reward me with the prize of your laughter, and I was… I was so wrong, and I'm so sorry.” She released her tight grip on his hair and petted him gently. 

“There, that's the truth. I knew we'd come around to it.” She stepped away from him, and he turned his head to follow her with his eyes as she walked across the room to settle in the ridiculously plush throne he'd bought exclusively for her use. “Come over here, Max.” His legs were slightly shaky underneath him when he crossed the floor to kneel at her feet, and she lifted one foot. “Take my shoes off.”

Reverently, he removed one bright red stiletto heel, set it under her chair, and placed its mate next to it after daring to let his fingers caress her ankle. She crossed her legs, smirking as his gaze traveled up her thighs to find the tops of her stockings stretched across them, trying to catch a glimpse of the red lace panties obscured in shadow from her form-fitting skirt. She bounced one foot idly, watching him watching it move, and then settled it on the top of his thigh. 

“I find myself wanting to forgive you more easily when your lapse was a mistaken attempt to please me,” she said, tracing an aimless shape across his leg with her pointed toes. “Your intentions were pure even if the execution was hopelessly misguided.” 

“It won't happen again, Mistress, I promise.”

“You realize that the next time you fuck up, I'm really going to have to _drill_ your mistake into you,” she purred, and he trembled from head to toe at the reminder of the way she'd fucked every coherent thought straight out of his head the last time she'd pegged him as a punishment. She smirked and dragged the tip of her toe against the head of his cock, the bead of wetness at the tip soaking into the silk instantly. “Do you think you'll last two months without fucking up?” 

“All I can do is give you my best,” he said breathlessly. “But you deserve nothing but my best.”

“Sweet boy,” she cooed, reaching down to caress his cheek. “You're forgiven this time. But keep in mind that I've got four days a week to plot how to extract punishment if you fail me again, now.”

“I've got four days a week to make up for my errors, too…” Max's lashes fluttered when Kinga caught his cock between her feet, and he licked his lips and bit the lower one to keep himself from gasping. 

“Well. Don't disappoint me now. Wait until you're told you can come, or I'll be very angry with you.”

“Oh, Mistress… I won’t let you down.” He looked down at her feet teasing him with silken, ticklish brushes of her toes and long pulls of her arches pressed around him and whimpered.

Foot jobs weren’t inherently interesting to Kinga, but the look on Max’s face, _that_ was interesting, his lip caught between his teeth as he fought against his own pleasure at her touch, knowing that if he just let himself enjoy it then he’d enjoy it too much to follow her orders. By now she knew just what to do to drive him mad, where to touch him and how: heel caressing his balls in a silent reminder of the pain she’d inflicted on him before, one toe dragging up the underside of his cock and catching slightly just under the flare of the head, every little trick she knew to try to get him to disobey her order. She didn’t realize until it was too late that he was driving her crazy in return, that she wanted desperately to kiss him, to pull that well-bitten lip into her mouth to bite it herself. 

Suddenly, she took her feet off him, stood up and pulled him to his feet with one finger under his chin to guide him up, then turned him and pushed him down into her seat. His eyes went wide as she bent and did exactly as she pleased, claiming his mouth roughly with her hand spread across his throat. He cried out, stifled into her lips, and she purred and licked into his mouth to taste a hint of expensive whiskey under his tongue. Her free hand unsnapped the band around his cock, and she didn’t even brush her fingers against him before he came with a sob, shooting off against her left stocking and leaving his release dripping down her leg.

“Oh no,” he gasped when she released him from the kiss, eyes panicky wide as she drew back. “Oh, no, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, please, Mistress—”

“Shh,” she said, stopping him with a finger across his lips. “Don’t worry, Max, I have just the punishment for your disobedience.” She propped her left foot on the chair between his legs, unhooking her stocking from her garter belt and easing the silk down her leg with the mess he’d made collected at the very front of the wad of fabric she stuffed into his mouth. The panic went out of his gaze as she threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled roughly on his curls. She’d made him eat his own come nearly every time she’d allowed him to have an orgasm with her; it was more procedure than punishment, though he usually sucked it off her fingers or licked it off the hardwood floor of this room. “Go on, suck it clean.”

Max’s eyes fell shut as his tongue explored the silk, imagining that he could taste her skin under the strong, salty flavor of his own seed. She stopped pulling his hair and started petting it instead, nails scraping gently against his scalp. 

“I’m not mad,” she said softly, “I set you up to fail there, you did just what I thought you would do.” He hummed through the silk, and she perched herself on his lap and kept petting him, enjoying the softness of his curls through her fingers. “I know that you just want to please me.” He nodded, and she leaned in to press her lips to his forehead. “I’m looking forward to spending more time with you, Max. I’m eager to see just how good I can get you to be for me.” She tugged her stocking out of his mouth and draped the wet fabric over his shoulder, clicking her tongue. “You said you’d do my laundry. I want you to hand wash my stockings and have them ready for me on Sunday.”

“Both of them?”

“Well, I’m certainly not going home in one stocking.” Kinga stood up again and put her right foot onto his knee, hiking the hem of her skirt until the top of her stocking was revealed. “Go ahead… take it off me.” He looked up at her, wide-eyed, and she smiled at him. “Well? I can do it myself if you’re too timid to touch me…” Before she could finish the sentence, his hands had moved to the fastening of her garters and delicately unhooked them, first the one on the outside of her leg and then, very carefully but without stealing any extra touch of her skin, the one on her inner thigh.

“Thank you, Mistress,” he breathed as he drew the silk down her leg, and she lifted her foot to let him pull it entirely off. Shyly, he brought it up to his nose and breathed in, exhaling on a sigh of satisfaction. She smirked and cupped his cheek.

“You’re very welcome, sweetness. Now get out of my throne.” He hopped up instantly and went to his knees. “Shoes,” she said, and he carefully replaced them on her bare feet.

“I’ve never sat in that chair before…” She walked over to where he’d left his clothes and picked up his glasses, unfolding the arms and holding them up to the light to see how smudged they were, but they weren’t— they were completely clear.

“No? Not even when you bought it?”

“No. It’s only for you. But if you choose to put me there, that’s where I’ll go.” 

“How did it feel?” she asked, bending to set his glasses on his face. The slight squint vanished, and he smiled up at her.

“It felt like being treasured.”

“Treasured,” she echoed, and smiled back at him. “I do treasure you. Your submission is a gift and I’m endlessly pleased by how you offer it to me.” His cheeks went pink, and her smile widened. “Any last requests to make before I lock you back up?”

“No, Mistress. But I have one for afterwards.” She arched a brow at him, and he added, “Kiss me goodbye before you go?”

“Of course, dear heart. Now stand up.” He got to his feet and clasped his hands behind his back, shoulders squared, and she nodded in satisfaction as she closed the cage around his cock, fitted the lock back into place and clicked it shut, and replaced the golden key around her neck. “There. Can you be a good boy until Sunday?”

“Yes, my Queen. I’ll be good for you until you don’t want me to be any more.” There was an ominous weight to his words, like he could see disaster coming for him. She tapped his cheek gently.

“Assume I want you to be good indefinitely,” she said, and he nodded. “All right. Walk me to the door, sweetness.” He came along, one step behind her, fetching her coat when they reached the living room and easing it onto her shoulders. She did up the buttons slowly, watching the slight disappointment in his gaze when she hid away her cleavage, and pursed her lips in amusement. “Come here, Max…” He stepped closer, lip caught between his teeth hopefully, and she cupped her hands around his cheeks. “I’ll see you Sunday night,” she breathed, and claimed his mouth with a lazy thoroughness that left him gasping when she pulled away. “Good night.” He blinked a couple of times and then offered her the vase of roses. 

“Good night, Mistress.” She didn’t look back when she walked out, heels clicking on the path to the driveway, but she could feel his gaze on her until she closed the car door and reached for the phone she’d left in the console. There was a message from her boyfriend with a picture attached: glass bottles of root beer and a pint of vanilla ice cream.

_Hey babe, I was thinking about ice cream floats tonight, want to get sugar high with me?_

She laughed quietly and tapped out a response to Jonah before starting her car for the drive home.

_Oh, honey, have I got something to tell you when I get home tonight..._


	2. Corporate Collars; Dinner and a Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Week one of the new arrangement: Kinga exerts control in subtle fashion, and Max and Jonah butt heads much less subtly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intended to cover five weeks in this chapter and I didn't even make it the entire way through week one without shattering the word count. Ooooops.
> 
> Well, hopefully people will be pleased that there's going to be more of this than I intended!

**Week 1 - Sunday**

“Wow, you have a _lot_ of these,” Kinga said, running her fingers over what had to be at least a hundred and fifty silk neckties neatly hung on display on one wall of Max’s walk-in closet. 

“I’ve been accumulating them for a long time,” he said from where she’d left him kneeling fully clothed in the doorway. “Some of them I’ve only worn once… gifts I didn’t like, mostly. Some of them just don’t look very good on me regardless of what I wear them with. Those are mostly toward the bottom.”

“This one doesn’t look good on you?” she asked skeptically, lifting an emerald green tie with a subtle blue sheen hanging at the bottom of the rack on one finger. He winced slightly.

“I don’t wear that one because of who gave it to me.”

“Oh?” She pulled it off the wall and slid the silk through her fingers. “Well. Whoever gave it to you isn’t as important as the fact that I’d like to see you wearing it.”

“...yes, Mistress,” he said, clearly reluctant. When she’d announced that she wanted a little more control over his life when she wasn’t present, he hadn’t assumed she’d do it in the form of accessories, but of course she would want to dictate what got wrapped around his neck, it was too obvious to pass up. She looked down at him with one brow arched, and he ducked his head slightly. “Would you like me to wear it on Wednesday or Thursday? I won’t be in a suit when I see you on Tuesday.”

“Oh, sweetness, I expect you to send me a selfie every morning so I can see your adorable face adorned how I please, whether or not I’ll be seeing you later in the day, for the rest of our time together. But don’t worry, I’ll lay them out so you know what order I want to see you in them.” She lifted another tie off the wall, pale blue with silver clouds embroidered onto it, and draped it across her arm with the first one, then ran her fingers over the top row of ties. “Are these your favorites?”

“They’re the ones I wear most often, but they’re not all my favorites.”

“Which one is your most favorite?” He looked up to locate it, lips pursed, and she fought the urge to pull him up and kiss him. Kissing him was a dangerous proposition when she was in the middle of a task, and anyways they had thirty minutes of cuddling and canoodling set aside at the end of their time together which had only just begun for the night, so she’d have time to do it when it wasn’t distracting.

“Second row, all the way to the right.” She pulled it off the wall with a laugh: grass green with a pattern of tiny red strawberries, the silk shiny with age. “My father gave me that tie before my first corporate job interview. It’s lucky.”

“It’s cute,” she said. “It suits you. I want you to wear this one on Thursday. I want to take it off you myself.”

“Whatever pleases you, my Queen.” They’d always met on Sunday nights; Thursday had been the first time she’d seen him in anything more formal than a sweater, and he’d been down to shirtsleeves before she arrived. The thought of her leading him around by his tie until she pulled it from around his throat made him quiver in eager anticipation. “Do you want to choose my other clothes?”

“No. I trust you to know what will look best on you with the ties I pick. And I want you to look your best every day for me, sweetness.” Honestly, she was a little intimidated by his wardrobe. Some of the suits hanging in this closet cost more individually than everything hanging in hers, and she’d seen him in none of them. She thought about undressing him with her own hands instead of simply ordering him to strip for her like she usually did, pulling the silk around his neck tight before unraveling the knot and sliding the smooth fabric between her fingers, slipping buttons through their holes, removing each fine layer until he was down to bare skin that craved her touch, running her fingers over his sensitive body as she decided exactly where to bite and strike and leave marks that no one would ever know about except the two of them…

“Are you all right, Mistress?” Kinga opened the eyes she hadn’t realized had slid shut and looked at him with a question in them. “You shivered… are you cold? I can turn up the heat if you’d like.”

“Oh… no, I’m fine. Thank you.” The goosebumps on her arms had everything to do with arousal and nothing to do with temperature. She turned back to the rack of ties feeling tender and shaken by it, and quickly pulled two more off the wall, one that looked like a sunset fading from gold at the point to black with pinpoint stars at the other end, and royal purple with a pattern of ivy leaves. “These will do for this week. Do you have anything planned for the weekend?”

“Grocery shopping, picking up my dry cleaning, I might see a movie on Saturday. I wasn’t intending to leave the house on Sunday. Unless there’s something you’d like me to do?”

“Mm, nothing comes to mind at the moment. But I will be expecting a selfie on the weekends too, so don’t slack off on your appearance just because you’re not going to work.” He gave her a wry look without commenting on the ease of maintaining his appearance, and she ran her fingers through his hair. 

“Am I allowed to text you beyond the selfies?”

“Yes, but don’t be inappropriate.” 

“I wouldn’t dare, my Queen.”

“I know you wouldn’t, sweetness.” She held out a hand and waited until he took it to pull him to his feet, smiling down at him. “Come along, now. I have plans for you tonight, and I’m eager to hear you beg for me.”

* * *

**Week 1 - Tuesday**

“I’ll get it,” Jonah called when the doorbell rang, and before Kinga could intervene he opened their front door and blinked. “Hi?”

“Um… hello,” Max said, looking all the way up at him. Somehow Kinga had managed to neglect to mention that her boyfriend was a skyscraper, but that was definitely the face he’d seen on her lock screen when she pulled her phone out on the night they’d met. “Is this Kinga Forrester’s address?” 

“Yes,” Jonah said, and he smiled uncertainly. “You must be Max.”

“That’s me.” Max lifted his hands, which were full of reusable grocery bags. “I’m supposed to be here tonight. Did she… not tell you?”

“No, she told me,” Jonah said, and he stood aside to motion Max into the living room. Kinga sighed from her place on the couch and wiggled her fingers at Max as he came in.

“Hello, sweetness. I _meant_ to greet you at the door,” she said, glaring a little at Jonah, who seemed magnificently unaffected by the slight sign of her displeasure that would have sent Max into a tizzy of apologies had it been aimed at him. “Let me show you around.”

“Kitchen first, please,” Max said, and shot a puzzled glance back over his shoulder at Jonah as she lead him out of the room. “Is he okay with this?” he asked in a murmur as they turned a corner, and Kinga snorted.

“Is he okay with our house getting cleaned and dinner getting made for us? Yes. Is he okay with me acting like your Domme in front of him? Not so much. He doesn’t want to be confronted with our dynamic.”

“So, uh…” His brows knitted anxiously. “What should I do if I’m not supposed to act submissively?”

“You can keep being obedient. Just… call me Kinga while you’re here, he’ll get all twitchy if you call me Mistress.” 

“Oh. I get to use your name?”

“Act like you’re a friend doing me a favor and not my sub following my orders,” she suggested, and put a hand on his cheek to lean in and add quietly, “but if you slip out of respectfulness, I’ll remember that on Thursday.”

“Being allowed to address you by name is a privilege, not permission to forget my place,” Max said, and she smiled and kissed his other cheek.

“Good boy.”

“Should I just… ignore Jonah? Is he going to ignore me?”

“Probably not,” she said. “He likes to talk. And if you’re joining us for dinner—”

“Am I permitted to?”

“Of course. It’s only right that you share the meal you make. You’re my submissive, not my slave.” The slight smile on his lips widened.

“This already feels more like a reward than like service,” he said. “Thank you… Kinga.”

“Well, I’ve never done this with anyone before, so we’re figuring it out together, and I’ll err on the side of kindness when you’re going above and beyond to please me,” she said, and looked down at the bags he carried. “So, what’s on the menu tonight?”

“Atlantic salmon and garden risotto with fresh berries and hand-whipped cream for dessert.”

“Shut up. Oh my god, when did I ever tell you I like salmon?” His brow furrowed thoughtfully as he started unpacking ingredients onto the counter and into the fridge.

“Mm, it wasn’t very long after we met. You said something about getting sushi, and I asked what kind you liked, and you said the only fish you enjoy is salmon.” 

“I don’t remember that at all…”

“Well, that was only the second or third time you saw me. I’m not surprised that it didn’t stick out in your mind, given how many clients you’ve only seen once or twice.” He finished unloading one bag and pulled a wrapped gift out of another to offer her with both hands. “Here, this is for you.” She peeled the paper off and opened the box to find an assortment of bath bombs and shower gels. “I thought I’d start with cleaning the bathroom after dinner tonight, you’ve been so stressed with your dissertation taking up all your time and you deserve a nice relaxing bath,” he said as she lifted out one bath bomb and sniffed it.

“Mm, this is nice. You’re so thoughtful. Thank you, sweetness.” He beamed and moved the last bag over against the wall. “What’s that?”

“Cleaning supplies. I didn’t want to assume you had them. And these are less harmful than most commercial cleaners. A lot of stuff on the market irritates my allergies, I know I can use these safely.” She nodded, and he added, “I figured I’d make dinner first.”

“Well, let me finish showing you around,” she said, and lead him down the hall. “That’s the office, that’s the bathroom… spare bedroom… and my room,” she said, waving at a closed door at the very end of the hallway. “Laundry and the game room are in the basement.”

“Game room?”

“Oh, Jonah’s into video games but I don’t like it when he commandeers the living room TV to play them. I’d rather not deal with the noise of Fortnite or whatever the flavor of the week is now when I can hear it from the office. I make him watch his crappy horror movies down there too,” she said as they came back down the hall, and they heard a sigh from the living room.

“Horror movies are not inherently crappy!” Jonah said, loud enough to be heard.

“Yeah, but you watch crappy ones too.”

“Well, yeah, but they’re not all crappy.”

“I like horror movies too,” Max said, and a second later Jonah poked his head around the corner looking intrigued.

“Oh, really?”

“Mmhm. I like zombie movies the best, but the genre’s been getting interestingly varied lately.”

“What did you think about A Quiet Place?”

“Oh, well…” Max shot a sideways glance at Kinga, who rolled her eyes.

“You two go ahead and talk about your terrible movies, I’m going to get a little work done before dinner.” She vanished into the office, leaving Max and Jonah blinking at each other for a second before Max shrugged and turned back into the kitchen.

“Come in here and talk to me while I cook, or we won’t be eating until much later than I had planned.”

“Yeah, sure thing.” 

“And, uh, help me find the pans and utensils I’ll need, please?”

“Of course. What are you making?” 

“Salmon and garden risotto.” Jonah’s lips twisted, and Max tried not to visibly react to his sign of displeasure, going to turn the oven on when he realized that he was doing a bad job of hiding it. “Is that not to your taste?”

“Depends on how you make the salmon… I’ll eat it,” Jonah said noncommittally.

“Well, what _do_ you like? I’ll be doing this weekly for the next two months, I can cater to your tastebuds too.”

“Do you want to know what I like, or do you want to know what Kinga and I both like?” Jonah asked archly. Max weighed his response for a moment before he realized that Jonah couldn’t discipline him for being snarky so he had no reason to refrain.

“I’m here to please her, but if I can easily please you both I might as well make everyone happy,” he said. Jonah’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Max fought a sigh as he reached for a knife from the block on the counter and started chopping vegetables. “You really don’t have to worry about me. I’m hardly going to steal her affection from you when I have to pay for the privilege of occupying her time.”

“Yeah, I’m sure I have no reason to worry about the rich client who keeps buying my girlfriend gifts and singlehandedly removed all her major stress factors for the rest of her doctorate program,” Jonah said with a roll of his eyes, and Max snorted a laugh.

“Right, because that definitely overrides the fact that she loves you and views you as an equal partner in your relationship and not a subordinate.”

“You don’t know what Kinga’s like at home. Sometimes I wonder if she wouldn’t prefer me to be her subordinate. But I’m not into…” Jonah waved vaguely at Max. “Any of that power play stuff. I’m pretty vanilla. And so was she, I thought, when we started dating.”

“Just because she does kink work for money doesn’t mean she wants it in her private life,” Max said, and Jonah shrugged.

“Yeah, well, she’s asked me for some weird stuff the past few years, and I didn’t like most of it. She’s gonna get bored with me sooner or later after she stops doing the weird stuff with other people.” Jonah made a sound of disgust and added, “Is _this_ a horror movie? Compulsively revealing my insecurities to my rival? What am I doing?”

“I think you are assigning me far too much importance if you really consider me your rival,” Max said. “You’re not my rival. You’re the man I’m going to lose her to. Once she’s done with her doctorate, she’s going to wash her hands of me, and you’ll still be here with her. That’s how this is going to play out. I don’t have any illusions to the contrary. Wishes, yes, honest beliefs, no.”

“That’s really how you see this?”

“Uh… yeah? You’ve been with her how many years and you don’t know how much she loves you? She doesn’t love me. I’m useful to her. That’s all.” Max looked down at the knife in his hands when he ran out of vegetables to chop and briefly considered menacing Jonah with it as a horror movie joke, but that sort of humor required a level of mutual knowledge that they didn’t share and he definitely didn’t want to anger a man who had a good foot of height at least on him and regarded him as a rival. He set it down on the counter and turned to find Jonah studying him intently. “Do you have a big stock pot with a lid?”

“Yeah,” Jonah said, and he fetched it from the cabinet, but he didn’t sit back down immediately, looming over Max instead. Max looked up at him and sighed.

“You don’t have to intimidate me. I’m already resigned to how I know this is going to play out. You might as well let me enjoy the last bit of time I get to spend with her before she cuts me loose and devotes herself to you alone.” Jonah blinked and took a step back.

“Intimidate you? No, I wasn’t trying to— I’m sorry. I was trying to figure out how tall you are. I realize now that asking would have been easier.”

“Oh. Yeah, you’re allowed to just ask that,” Max said, but he waited for Jonah to sit back down before he answered. “I’m 5’3”. What are you, 6’6”?”

“6’5”,” Jonah said, and his lips twitched. “Sorry, that’s— you’re shorter than she is. She must love that.”

“Well, she’s usually wearing three inch heels around me, so yeah, she leans into it. Where do you keep your measuring cups?”

“Drawer next to the sink.”

“Thank you.” Max busied himself with getting the risotto cooking, then cast a look back at Jonah when all he had to do was stir. “You never told me what you like to eat. The two of you have to have a mutual favorite meal, right?”

“When I’m trying to impress her, I make chicken marsala, and when she’s trying to impress me, she makes steak, but neither of us are particularly impressive chefs,” Jonah admitted, and Max stifled a laugh into one hand. 

“Well, not to toot my own horn, but I am a pretty impressive chef.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Jonah said, and Max smirked.

“ _She’ll_ be the judge of that. Your opinion is appreciated but hardly necessary.”

“I guess that’s fair.” 

“I don’t get much opportunity to impress anyone, though, so if I do impress you, let me know.”

“I can’t imagine you’re _that_ hard up for company,” Jonah said. “You’re objectively cute—”

“Oh, objectively?” There was no hiding the laugh in Max’s voice.

“—so unless you’ve got some horrible personality trait like Republicanism or misogyny or—”

“Yeah, misogynists are _really_ likely to pay beautiful women to dominate them.”

“Well, I don’t know! I don’t know how those people’s minds work.” 

“I’m not a misogynist, I’m not a racist, I’m not a Republican. I believe in science and vaccination and equal rights for everyone and a much higher tax rate for people in my income bracket.”

“Then what’s wrong with you that you’re so lonely you have to pay a woman to give you attention?” Jonah asked. Max’s face went first pale and then rapidly bright red.

“You are a _very_ rude person,” he said.

“What, do you actually have something wrong with you?”

“There _was_ something wrong with me when I met Kinga,” Max said, “and now there isn’t, and it’s all because of her, so if you could please lay off me and stop reminding me that I’m probably going to backslide into being painfully awkward and completely unsure of myself once she cuts ties with me, I’d appreciate it.”

“....oh,” Jonah said, very quietly. “Wow, man, I’m— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“You didn’t mean to make me feel bad about myself?” Max asked scathingly. 

“I started that sentence trying to compliment you, dammit!”

“Oh, right. I’m objectively cute but it doesn’t outweigh my massive character defects sufficiently for anyone to love me. No offense, Jonah, but you _suck_ at compliments.” Max turned his back on Jonah to focus on the risotto, then grudgingly asked, “Where do you keep a baking sheet?”

“Cabinet next to the oven.” Silence reigned over the kitchen while Max prepped the salmon and put it in the oven, and then he sighed and turned to lean back against the counter, frowning at Jonah.

“What’s so great about you that she’d be willing to go back to a life of being vanilla, anyways?”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Max shrugged one shoulder, but the flush in his cheeks belied his composure.

“She enjoys the way she gets to be with me. If she didn’t enjoy it, I wouldn’t have kept seeing her. I think you were right before, she’s going to be bored with what you have to offer sooner or later. So what’s your amazing astonishing character trait that’s going to outweigh you being boring in bed?”

“I’m not _boring_ in bed!”

“Sure. You probably believe that, but that doesn’t make it true.”

“Oh, I don’t think I like you,” Jonah said. “I wasn’t sure at first but now I’m pretty sure I don’t.”

“Really? It took you that long to figure it out?”

“Well, you seemed pretty nice until I poked your insecurities.”

“And now I’m poking yours back. I don’t have to defer to you. Especially not if you’re going to be mean to me. That’s not the kind of cruelty I’m into.”

“ _Why_ though?”

“Why am I not into being emotionally attacked?”

“No. Why are you into cruelty? What’s appealing about being abused?”

“It’s not abuse,” Max said, rolling his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with consensually exploring a mutual interest in pain or in power play. And she doesn’t _abuse_ me, she _treasures_ me. I put myself in her hands and she turns me into something better than I am on my own.”

“Treasures, huh? Are you still going to try to tell me I have nothing to worry about from you?”

“If you’re afraid I’m going to steal your girlfriend, you better step up your game so I don’t do it without even trying hard.” Jonah’s jaw dropped, and Max sighed. “I don’t have to explain anything to you. You obviously think there’s something wrong with me, so what’s the point?”

“I just honestly don’t understand it,” Jonah said. “You _don’t_ have to explain anything to me. You don’t owe me anything. I’m sorry I blundered over your feelings in my inept attempt to get a clue about what the hell this whole part of her life I have nothing to do with is about. It doesn’t make any sense to me. I don’t know _how_ to make sense of it, and you’re the first person I’ve met who knows anything about what she does when she’s doing that stuff.”

“Oh,” Max said. “You don’t ask her?”

“She doesn’t know how to explain. She wants to demonstrate. And that never goes well.” From the look on Jonah’s face, there was at least one interesting story attached to that, but it wasn’t Max’s place to pry into their personal lives even though Jonah was trying to pry into his. 

“Well… do you actually have a direct question to ask me? Or are we just going to keep stabbing each other with half-meant words and never actually get anywhere besides inadvertent offense?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know how to word it,” Jonah said. “I just think pain is something to be avoided as much as possible, not sought out to the point of begging for it.”

“You and most people,” Max said, trying not to scoff. “It’s just a personal preference. Like whether you prefer sweet or savory. Or your favorite color. It’s not some big ethical issue. Certain people enjoy certain sensations, and it’s fucked up to judge or shame people for what they enjoy as long as it’s not hurting anyone else.”

“I guess.” Max’s phone started to beep, and he hit the button and pulled the salmon out of the oven, testing a piece with a fork to see if it flaked. 

“Well, dinner’s ready,” he said. “Show me where you keep your plates, and then go get Kinga?”

“They’re in the upper cabinet right in front of you, and glasses are in the one to the left of that,” Jonah said, and hesitated in the doorway of the kitchen to watch Max begin setting the table. “Uh… I’m sorry. If I was a jerk. I mean, I _was_ being a jerk, and I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate and accept your apology,” Max said, not turning around as he set out wine glasses and cutlery. “Thank you. Most people wouldn’t bother.”

“Well, I’m not most people.”

“I’m not apologizing for standing up for myself.”

“I don’t expect you to.” _That_ got Max to look at him, one brow arched like he was impressed.

“Good,” he said. “If you could maybe not tell Kinga about this…”

“Oh, yeah, I was definitely going to blab about accidentally bullying you,” Jonah said with a snort. Max waved a hand at him.

“Go on, tell her it’s time for dinner.” 

Jonah hesitated outside the office before tapping on the door lightly. “Kinga, dinner’s ready.” 

“One minute,” she called, but Jonah stood there and waited for her to open the door. “Mm, hi. Are the two of you getting along?” she asked when she came out, reaching up to pull him down for a kiss.

“More or less,” Jonah said.

“What do you think of him?” Jonah didn’t even say anything before Kinga laughed. “Oh, the look on your face.”

“What look?”

“You look like I brought home a pet tarantula. Like you’re afraid of it but putting up with it for my sake.” Jonah closed his eyes and sighed. “ _Oh_. That’s on the money, isn’t it?” she asked softly.

“You’re disgustingly good at reading people.”

“Well, yeah, I have to be.” 

“I don’t know how I feel about him,” Jonah said, “he seems mostly nice, but…”

“But?”

“He’s got a sharp edge.”

“What’d he say to you?”

“Nothing I didn’t deserve. Come on, I know you haven’t eaten all day, you must be starving.”

By the time they came back into the kitchen, Max had laid out the table, two places across from each other and one at the head, the salmon and vegetable-studded risotto attractively plated and a full glass of the white wine he’d used in the risotto waiting for each seat to be claimed. He smiled at Kinga when she walked in and pulled out the chair at the head of the table for her.

“I hope you’ll enjoy it,” he said, and she brushed her fingers fondly down his back as she moved to sit.

“It smells delicious,” she said. Max hesitated until Jonah seated himself on Kinga’s right, and then settled himself into the final place without comment. Kinga looked from Jonah to Max and back again as the two men stared at each other for a second, and then Jonah dropped his eyes and reached for his wine glass.

“Thank you for cooking,” he said. Max blinked and smiled slightly.

“You’re welcome.” He didn’t reach for his fork until Kinga picked up hers, and it almost fell out of his fingers with the whimper that escaped her with her first bite of salmon, wide eyes fixing on her intently as his cheeks went pink.

“Oh, that’s _good_ ,” she said after she swallowed. “My compliments to the chef.” She hooked her foot around his ankle under the table, and he beamed at her. 

“I’m glad you like it.” Max deliberately ignored the way Jonah stared at him, turning his attention to his own dinner, and they ate without conversation for a couple of minutes with a few more appreciative sounds from Kinga when she tasted the risotto. 

“Gosh, sweetness, I wish you could cook for me all the time,” Kinga said, and the gaze Max fixed on her was achingly wistful.

“So do I,” he sighed. 

“I can’t even argue with that,” Jonah said. “You’re a really good chef.” Max sat up a little straighter, blinking in surprise at the compliment.

“Thank you. Well, I will be cooking for you both a few more times, do you have any requests?”

“Next week, make whatever you make best,” Kinga said, and Max’s lips twitched.

“Do you want to know what that is, or do you want to be surprised?”

“Surprise me.”

“Do either of you have any food allergies?”

“I don’t, but he can be a picky eater,” Kinga said, nodding at Jonah, who was finishing clearing his plate at that moment. 

“I’m not a picky eater,” Jonah said. “You’re just not very good at cooking.” Max gasped out loud, but Kinga just playfully kicked Jonah underneath the table.

“Yeah, well, you’re not much better. That’s why we’re always eating out.”

“If neither of you has requests or objections, I’ll just do my best to impress you,” Max said. “That gives me a lot of leeway, thank you.” He stood to collect their empty plates and move them to the sink. “Would anyone like more wine?”

“Yes please,” Kinga said, and gave him a dreamy smile when he came back to refill her glass. “Thanks, dear heart.”

“You’re welcome, M—” Max realized what he was about to say and awkwardly stopped himself. “Kinga.” He looked down at the table, sucking on his lower lip for a moment, and looked back up with a slightly strained smile. “Are we ready for dessert?”

“Sure,” Jonah said, back to looking suspicious. 

“That’d be lovely,” Kinga said, kicking Jonah a little less playfully when Max turned to fetch two big bowls out of the fridge and glaring at him when he turned a hurt look on her. The lids came off to reveal one bowl was full of jewel-toned berries, halved strawberries dripping juice and vivid, slightly squished raspberries and lapis-bright blueberries, and the other contained fluffy whipped cream. “Oooh.” Max fetched clean forks for all of them and hesitated with a hand on the back of his chair.

“Do we want individual bowls?”

“I don’t see the need,” Kinga said, stabbing a strawberry and dipping it into the whipped cream before taking a bite and making a rapturous sound. “ _Mmm_.” Max sat down very quickly, looking a bit dizzy, and she reached to cover his hand with hers. “You said you hand-whipped this? It’s _fantastic_.”

“Yes, I put a drop of vanilla in to give it a boost,” Max said, turning his hand underneath hers to clasp her fingers back. “I thought that would play well with you.”

 _Hand-whipped_ , Jonah mouthed sarcastically, but neither of them noticed. He swiped a blueberry through the cream and his eyes went wide as soon as he tasted it. “ _Mmm._ ” Both Kinga and Max looked sharply over at the sound he made, and Jonah flushed a little. “This is really good,” he said weakly. 

“Thank you,” Max said. He kept cutting bemused glances at Jonah from time to time as the bowls emptied, until Kinga picked up the bowl that had formerly held the cream, dragged her finger along the curve of it, and popped it into her mouth with one last appreciative whimper. “Ohh…” He bit his lip against the sound he made in response, but he was bright pink by the time he held out his hands for the empty bowl and she placed it into them, and she blew him a kiss looking thoroughly amused. 

Jonah had flushed again at the sound she’d made, and he sat back from the table, chair legs scraping the floor noisily. “Thank you for dinner, it was excellent,” he said a little awkwardly, and made himself scarce. 

“Yes, thank you, sweetness, you did an amazing job,” Kinga said. Max came back from setting the bowls in the sink to pour the last of the white wine in her glass, and she caught his wrist with one hand and relieved him of the bottle with the other. “What’s your plan now?” she asked, thumb rubbing circles on the ticklish inside of his wrist. He shivered.

“I was intending to do the dishes and then clean the bathroom. Unless you need me for something, that’s always more important.”

“No, I don’t need to distract you from carrying out my stated orders,” she said. “I’m just going to sit here and watch you do the dishes, though. For some reason, watching men do housework is sexy.”

“As long as you’re thinking I’m sexy and not silly, I don’t mind being observed.” She didn’t release his wrist, but started to unbutton his shirt cuff, rolling his sleeve above his elbow and then trailing her fingers along the goosebumps adding texture to his arm. Wordlessly, he offered her the other arm for the same treatment, and when she’d finished she took both his hands and brought them up to kiss the backs of them. “Thank you, Mistress,” he breathed quietly. She beamed up at him.

“I’m _so_ pleased with you, Max. I can’t wait until Thursday when I can give you what you deserve for delighting me.” He bit his lip and she fought the urge to kiss him, but that wasn’t something she’d do with any chance of Jonah catching sight of them. “Go on, then.”

Max put some music on his phone before he started in on the dishes, and about thirty seconds into Ever Fallen in Love by the Buzzcocks Jonah poked his head into the kitchen again.

“Do you actually like punk, or are you making a lyrical statement?” 

“I’ve liked punk longer than you’ve been alive,” Max said with a snort.

“Yeah? Cause you look like a corporate drone.”

“ _Jonah_ …” Kinga’s tone was more threat than warning.

“You should have seen me when I was a teenager,” Max said. “I was… less respectable by a long shot. Computers all day, basement shows every night I could sneak out of the house, chunky little nerd with a Jewfro out to here, bruised all over from the mosh pit all the time.” He shrugged. “Believe me, turning into the Man was not my projected career path in the eighties.”

“Please tell me you have photographs,” Kinga said. “I need to see proof of this with my own eyes.”

“I’ll let _you_ see them, but not _him_.” 

“Obviously,” Jonah said, rolling his eyes. “Well, I’ll trust her report as to your legitimacy or lack thereof.”

“Are you going to keep distracting me, or can I get on with this?” Max asked.

“Don’t let me keep you from your orders.”

“Get out,” Kinga said, pointing back into the living room. “Stop heckling him and go do something productive.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Jonah said sarcastically, and left. Max sighed heavily and turned back to scrubbing the stock pot clean.

“I’m sorry he’s being like this,” Kinga said.

“It’s pretty much what I expected,” Max said. “Perhaps not the content of the jabs, but the jabs were expected.”

“I can make sure he’s out of the house next week if he’s going to hassle you.”

“No, I’ll be fine. I don’t care what he thinks of me, I only care what you think of me. Anyways, I can’t shut him up by impressing him if he’s not around.”

“You don’t care what he thinks of you, but you want to impress him?”

“You missed the part where he shuts up because he’s impressed.” Kinga laughed and came over to set her empty wine glass next to the sink, sliding her arms around Max from behind to give him a lingering heartfelt hug.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to send him away? I don’t want him to bully you.”

“I can handle it,” Max said, leaning back slightly in her embrace. He was so used to her towering over him in her heels that realizing they were nearly the same height felt startlingly intimate here, welcomed into her home. “Now, anyways. It would have fucked me up two years ago, but I’m stronger now.”

“Yes, you are,” she said, squeezing him gently around the softest part of his middle. “And I’m so happy to be the reason you feel stronger.”

“Thank you, Mistress,” he whispered, tilting his head back to kiss her cheek. She released him reluctantly, skimming one hand down his back as she moved away.

“I’m going back into the office. Tap on the door if you need me for anything.”

Left to his own devices, Max finished the dishes promptly, picked up his bag of cleaning supplies, and tried not to sigh when he looked around the corner into the living room, where Jonah was sitting with his long legs up on the couch, playing around on a tablet.

“I’m about to clean the bathroom,” he warned, “in case you need it…”

“Nope. Carry on,” Jonah said without looking up. Relieved, Max found the bathroom and got to work.

Offering to clean Kinga’s house wasn’t a hardship for Max, who had found cleaning to be a meditative exercise for most of his life; he let his mind drift as he scrubbed and polished and rinsed every surface in the bathroom and rearranged the toiletries scattered on the counter into neat ranks, daydreaming about what the rest of the week might hold under her sweet dominion. His two hours were up before he’d finished, but he refused to leave the job half-done, and no one told him to leave just because it was eight o’clock. Finally, closer to eight-thirty, he knocked on the office door, and Kinga opened it to find him with his cuffs back in place.

“I’m done for the night,” he said, and held up the bag of supplies. “I’m just going to leave these here for next time, I’m going to clean the kitchen next week.”

“I’ll put them away for you,” she said, taking the bag from his hands and setting it down by the door before pulling him into the office by his collar and kicking the door shut gently behind him. “You stayed late.”

“I wasn’t done until just now, and I didn’t want to leave before I was finished.”

“You are a _very_ good boy,” she purred, one hand coming up to curl around the back of his neck. “Want me to show up early tomorrow to make up for it?”

“I’d rather get the extra time on Thursday,” he confessed, and her lips twitched upwards.

“I bet you would. Well, unless you do something incredibly bad tomorrow, I have a very clear idea of the reward I want to give you on Thursday.” The promise in her voice sent a shiver through him. “Is there anything you’d like before you leave?”

“Just a kiss goodbye,” he said hopefully, and she pulled him in to give him what he’d asked for, a sweet slow smooch that ended with a soft sigh. “Thank you, Mistress.”

“You’re welcome, sweetness. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Max collected his kitchen supplies from where he’d left them on the table, then steeled himself to walk past Jonah on his way to the front door. Jonah looked up from his tablet and Max hesitated mid-step.

“Are you done?”

“For this week, yes.” Jonah’s dark gaze swept Max up and down, and Max lifted his chin slightly.

“Thanks for dinner. See you next week.” Jonah turned back to what he’d been doing, and Max didn’t exhale his sigh until he was on the other side of the front door. 


	3. (Not) Just a Nibble; Unwrapping a Gift Freely Given; Many Hands Make Light Work; Given and Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max gets several things: deliciously hurt, wonderfully cherished, unexpectedly helped, completely owned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've now hit four out of the five Kink Bingo line kinks! Chapter four _should_ wrap this story up with the final kink and some gratuitous feels.

**Week 1 - Wednesday**

“Oh, _hello_ ,” Kinga said when Max opened the door for her. “Don’t you look scrumptious.”

“Not an adjective I’ve heard applied to myself before,” Max said, standing aside to let her in, “but far be it from me to contradict a compliment from you.”

“Good boy,” she purred as she brushed past him, but she turned immediately to catch him by the lapels of his suit when he closed the door behind her. “I do love a cute man in a quality suit.”

“Do you, really?” His cheeks went pink, and she leaned in to kiss him on one of them. The suit was charcoal grey with a subtle dark purple pinstripe, and he was wearing the purple tie embroidered with ivy leaves, which she hooked a finger underneath to pull out from his vest and wrap around her hand. 

“I’m a little sad I haven’t seen you in a suit before now, sweetness. It looks good on you.” She pulled him closer, playing with the knot of his tie with her other hand. He bit his lip as she pulled it tighter around his throat, head tilting back slightly, and she hummed and leaned in to bite him just above his collar.

“Don’t,” he said reluctantly. “Not there, please, Mistress. I don’t want to have anyone ask me where I got a love bite from.”

“That’s fair,” she said, and kissed his other cheek. “Well, if you won’t let me bite you where anyone can see, you’d better present me with a place you’d prefer me to bite.” She let go of his tie, and he breathed a tiny sigh as he hooked a finger into his collar to pull it slightly looser. 

“May I take your coat?”

“Of course.” His eyes followed her hands as she undid her buttons, until she reached the last one and revealed the lace-edged sweetheart neckline of a form-fitting purple dress with a very brief hem as she shrugged her coat off. His gaze caught on the key between her breasts before he came around to ease the coat off her shoulders and went to hang it up, flustered by her choice to match him from the selfie he’d sent her that morning. “So tonight you want me to hurt you,” she said in a tone that was just as pleased as he’d hoped she’d be by his request, and he paused with his arms lifted to the coat rack when she slid her arms around him from behind. “Did you have any specific thoughts on how you’d like me to do that, or is it dealer’s choice?” she murmured into his ear.

“I wouldn’t want to limit your options,” he breathed.

“Naturally, but I’m asking about your preferences, not planning on proscribing my actions by them.”

“I _do_ want you to bite me. Just not on my neck. But anywhere else you care to, I’d like that. And I like it when you use your nails on me. I’ve enjoyed the times you’ve spanked me. And, um…” He lowered his arms, hands coming to cover hers where they rested on his belly. “I think I’d like you to step on me.”

“Not in these shoes,” she said immediately. “Next week I’ll wear better ones. I’d hurt you rather a lot more badly than I’d care to in these heels.”

“You could do it barefoot,” he suggested. She hummed and squeezed him. “Although I doubt that would hurt much at all. I’d still enjoy it.”

“Depends on where I step,” she said, and kissed the back of his neck, pressing her nose into his curls. “So you don’t want me to use anything to hurt you? Just my body?”

“To start with,” he said. “Maybe only that tonight. We’ve got weeks to get into more complicated things. I like— mm.” He cut himself off as her hands moved to start undoing the buttons of his suit vest inside his open jacket. 

“What do you like, sweetness?” she prompted him after a second.

“I like the thought of you not needing anything else to put me in my place,” he said softly. “You belong above me. However it pleases you to be.”

“Very good,” she purred, and let go of him only to turn him to face her and wind his tie through her fingers. “Come along, dear heart.” She lead him through his condo with a gentle tug on the silk, glancing back to find him eager as a puppy to follow at her heels until she lead him into the dungeon room and stopped him in the center of the room. “Now give me a place to sink my teeth into you,” she said as she undid the knot in his tie and wound the silk into a neat roll around her finger. He started shedding layers immediately, and she reached for each article of clothing to fold it over her arm as he removed it: the suit jacket, the vest, the white oxford shirt that took him a long moment to unbutton, first at the cuffs, then collar to hem. 

“You can bite wherever you please as long as I can cover it up at work,” he said, and she smirked and turned to lay his clothes over a padded bench. “And honestly… I wish I _could_ wear your marks openly. I'd be proud to. But I really don't need to give my gossipy coworkers a reason to fixate on me.”

“No, you don't,” she agreed, settling her hands on his chest as he stepped out of his pants. “They talk too much already, you don't need to be fuel for the fire.” One fingertip followed the soft curve of his belly and hooked into the waist of his underwear to tug it down. “Now… Do you want me to unlock you and hurt you here too?” she asked, tapping the metal cage around his cock with her nail. 

“I want you to, but you shouldn't if you don't want me to get off tonight,” he said regretfully. “I, uh… I really liked doing things around the house for you last night. It's a good thing I was locked up or I would have wasted a lot of time touching myself to the memory of your praise after I got home.”

“Really?” He nodded, flushed with the confession, and she smirked. “Well, keeping you from wasting your time like that is half the reason you're locked up at all.”

“I remember,” he said dryly. “It’s been effective, too. I’ve been so productive since you put my key around your neck.” 

“Your problem is that you’re a very sensual person,” Kinga said, “you’re very easily distracted by sensations, and you’re self-indulgent.”

“Those are three of my myriad problems,” he agreed. “But that was a pretty lethal combination working against me.”

“Don’t worry, Max. I won’t indulge you any more than you’ve earned.” She reached down to dig her nails into one tender inner thigh and rake them upwards, and he gasped and swayed on his feet. “But tomorrow’s for rewards, and tonight is for sensations that should occupy your mind quite thoroughly, my sweet little cupcake.” She flicked his balls with one fingernail and he yelped.

“Y-yes, Mistress. Whatever you want to do to me.”

“On the bench, then. I've decided where to put my teeth in you first.” 

“Face up or face down?” Max hesitated while she looked him up and down, then tapped one finger just above his heart.

“Face up, sweetness. I want you to see every bite mark I leave on you.” 

* * *

**Week 1 - Thursday**

“Close your eyes,” Kinga said, and Max tried not to pout.

“I don’t get to watch you undress me?”

“Are you arguing with me, Max?”

“No, Mistress,” he said immediately, but it was with reluctance he let his eyes fall shut. She reached up to remove his glasses and his face screwed up with the effort to not look at her as she hooked one arm of the glasses into the chain of the key she wore around her neck. 

“I want you to know that I’ve been thinking about doing this all week long,” she said as she unbuttoned his suit jacket, dark sapphire blue casting his pale skin in alabaster tones. “I did it wrong yesterday with my arms around you.”

“That was nice, though…” Her hands went to the vest next, mother-of-pearl buttons slipping one by one out of their holes, and she clicked her tongue chidingly.

“It felt nice,” she said, and slid her hands underneath his vest when the last button came free. “But I deprived myself of the pleasure of fully enjoying unwrapping you like the gift you are.” His breath caught in his throat when she caressed his sides and pulled him against her. “And you are quite the pretty package tonight.”

“Th-thank you,” he breathed, still fighting his own desire to open his eyes, and she kissed one cheek gently before taking a half step back to toy with the strawberry tie around his throat before unraveling the knot and leaving it hanging around his neck. 

“Oh, you look so tormented.”

“It’s very difficult to have you so near but not be allowed to adore you with every sense I have.”

“Use the senses you’ve got left,” she said, tapping his nose with one long nail. He nodded and inhaled slowly, letting it out on a heartfelt sigh.

“You’re wearing the perfume,” he said, and she smiled and started to loosen his tie.

“You have excellent taste, sweetness. I love this scent. It suits me so well.” It was all spice and sharpness and sensual musk, a whipcrack in a bottle, and it made Kinga feel _powerful_ to wear it. His hands twitched at his sides, and she smirked. “You poor thing. Which would you rather have, sight or touch?”

“Sight,” he said immediately, “please, let me look at you, my Queen.”

“Open your eyes, sweetness.” She was closer than he realized, staring at him with the fierce focus of a bird of prey watching something small and tasty, and Max gasped in surprise. “ _Gosh_ you’re cute,” she purred, and caught his lips in a kiss that slipped from sweet to filthy in the blink of an eye, until she bit his lip and pulled back until it popped from between her teeth. “All right, I don’t see why we both shouldn’t enjoy this part as much as we can,” she said, and started on his shirt buttons from the bottom up, parting the fabric as she went, flirting her nails against the curve of his stomach until he twitched ticklishly. “It’s a shame that it took two years for me to see you in a suit. You look so handsome in them, just as dignified as we both know you can be.”

“Thank you…” He swallowed as she pulled his collar tight around his throat before slipping the last button free. “I’m glad you think of me that way.”

“It’s only the truth.” She caught both sides of his collar and drew him in to be kissed again, slower and sweeter this time, letting go of the fabric to slide her hands around his neck gently, fingertips stirring the curls at his hairline. “I love the way you give yourself to me, Max.”

“You deserve so much more than I can give—” Before he could finish the sentence she cut him off with another kiss.

“No. I deserve all of you, and that’s what I get from you, sweetness. Every whimper and quiver and caught breath, every drop of sweat and come, every tear, every worshipful glance and gasped plea, that’s what I deserve, and that’s what you give me.” She slid her hands inside his open shirt, fingers spread wide over his sides, and he shivered at the gentle drag of her nails over his skin. “You’re _mine_ , Max. Aren’t you?”

“I’m yours for as long as you want me,” he said fervently. “I might still be yours after you decide you don’t. I doubt I’ll ever get over the loss of you.”

“Let’s not think about that tonight,” she said softly, and he nodded. “Tonight I want you to focus on what we’re doing right now.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Now let’s get you out of these clothes.” Kinga walked around him to help him shrug out of all his layers at once, biting gently at the nape of his neck as it was revealed, and he sighed as his head fell forward. The marks she’d left on him the previous night were everywhere she looked: scratches clawed down his back, the imprint of her teeth spotting his chest with bruises in several places that she tested with her fingertips just to watch him squirm in her arms. “Did you enjoy yourself last night?”

“Oh, _yes_.” 

“What was your favorite part?” Max had his lip between his teeth when she came back around him, and she cupped his cheek. “Come on, tell me,” she urged.

“When you dried my tears and told me I’d been good for you.” She leaned in to kiss him with a pleased hum.

“You are _so_ sweet.” Kinga’s hands fell to unbuckle his belt, pop the two buttons inside his fly, and slowly drag down the zipper. “And you _were_ so good for me. You made me very happy this week, Max. I know just how I want to reward you.” His eyes went wide when she went down to one knee in front of him as she pulled his pants down.

“M-mistress?” he breathed uncertainly. She didn’t pull the key off her neck when she unlocked him; she leaned in, and the warmth of her breath through the bars of the cage made his cock twitch helplessly in the instant before she pulled it open and freed him. “Ohh…” She flirted her fingers against the sensitive spot under the head and smirked as she stood up again with him clasped securely in her hand as she teased him erect. 

“Come along, Max,” she cooed, giving him a gentle tug that made him whimper as he followed her to her throne. She sat against one arm of the plush velvet chair and patted the space next to her. “Sit here and put your legs over my lap.”

“I won’t fit,” he said, and she pursed her lips.

“Sweetness, I know exactly how you’re shaped. But if you don’t want your reward…” Hastily, he did as he was told, and she petted one thick thigh gently as he tried not to make her take too much of his weight. “There you go. Put your arm around me… yes, good boy.” He wriggled a little, luxuriating in the velvet against his skin, and she smiled up at him as she curled her fist around his cock and pulled. 

“Oh, _thank you_ ,” he sighed.

“You’ve earned this,” Kinga told him, voice soft-edged with affection. “You deserve to be pleased for how well you’ve pleased me. Because I am _very_ pleased with you.” His legs were heavy atop hers as he went boneless as she worked him over, but she didn’t mind the weight of him, too enchanted by having him curled up for her to touch and tease and treasure. She watched his face, not her hand on him, and when he bit his lip in a bid to control himself she let go of him entirely.

“Oh!” He sounded disappointed, and she smirked up at him.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you? No, dear heart, we’ve got a while left together tonight… and I’m going to find out how many times I can edge you before you can’t take any more, and _then_ you can come, after I’ve wrung every second of pleasure you can stand out of you.” He whimpered around his bitten lip, and she lifted her hand to his lips. “Spit.”

“I can’t _spit_ on you,” he said in horror, and she tweaked his nose.

“You can get off my lap so I can grab the lube and not be allowed back onto it, or you can spit and I’ll put my hand back around you. Your choice.” 

“A challenge even inside the reward,” he sighed.

“I want your obedience most of all, Max. I want you to do as I tell you even if your instinct is to balk.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he said, kissed her palm, and delicately spat into the center of it.

“Good boy,” she said, and spread the wetness over her fingers before wrapping them back around him. “How long do you think you can take, hmm? Thirty minutes? Forty? An hour?”

“I have no idea,” he said honestly. 

“We’ll find out together,” she purred, playing her fingertips along the underside of his cock. 

* * *

**Week 2 - Tuesday**

“We never actually discussed horror movies last week,” Jonah said, coming into the kitchen and sitting down only a minute after Kinga left Max to do his thing. Max blinked and then pulled the trash can around so he could peel potatoes while facing Jonah.

“No, we didn’t.” 

“Do you want a hand with that?” 

“With the vegetables?”

“Yeah. I’m capable of handling a peeler,” Jonah said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “I’m bad in the kitchen but I have yet to skin myself alive.”

“See if you can keep that up, then. Blood definitely does not improve my mashed potato recipe.” 

Jonah snorted and got up to grab a peeler out of the drawer and claim one of the potatoes sitting on the edge of the sink. “Blood doesn’t improve most recipes.”

“I should probably ask how rare you like your steak before I prepare it, then,” Max said dryly.

“Medium rare,” Jonah said, brows arched. “Is that the menu for tonight?”

“Filet mignon, garlic mashed potatoes, and a spring salad,” Max said.

“Oh, man, you are going right for the kill,” Jonah laughed. 

“Well, she told me to make what I make best…” 

“Dare I ask what you have planned for dessert?”

“You daren’t. That’s a surprise.” Jonah opened his mouth, and Max pointed the peeler at him. “Don’t even guess, I won’t tell you if you get it right.”

“Sheesh. All right, then, keep your secrets.” 

Max bit back a smirk. “Are you a Lord of the Rings fan or just meme trash?”

“They’re hardly mutually exclusive qualities,” Jonah said, and that got an actual laugh out of Max.

“That’s fair. You look like a meme lord though.”

“I don’t know whether to say ‘thank you’ or ‘fuck off’,” Jonah said. 

“You’d fit right in in my department,” Max said, and Jonah wrinkled his nose.

“That doesn’t clarify _anything_.” Max just smiled and picked up another potato, and Jonah blinked a couple of times and shrugged. “Fine, be vaguely insulting. I can take it.”

“You don’t seem like the type to lack for confidence,” Max said. “I don’t see why my opinion should matter to you.”

“It doesn’t,” Jonah blatantly lied, stabbing out an eye of the potato with the point of the peeler. “I don’t care what you think about me.” 

“Uh-huh.” Max took the potato out of Jonah’s hands before he could attack it further and dropped it into the pot of water with the rest of them. “We keep getting distracted from what you say you want to talk about,” he said. “So what’s your favorite thing that goes bump in the night? What scares you?”

“Nothing,” Jonah said, and Max scoffed. 

“Well, _I_ seem to scare you, so I know that’s not true.”

“No one’s making movies about our… whatever this is,” Jonah said. “Situation? Our situation? I’m never going to see a horror flick about the terrifying nature of getting edged out of my own romantic position by a kinkier, cuter, subbier guy.” Max smirked but didn’t say anything, and Jonah huffed a sigh. “I like horror films where people are the monsters. Just awful, evil, horrible human beings doing terrible things to other people. Humans are scarier than anything supernatural.”

“Oh, so me scaring you is on brand for you already,” Max said cheerfully. “Don’t worry, I promise I’m not a serial killer or… sadistic at all, really. Just masochistic. I’m not going to chop you into pieces and steal your girlfriend.”

“Like you could overpower me anyways?” Jonah asked, one brow arched high over his glasses, and Max laughed.

“Come on, do you _really_ want me to list the ways I could? Because I could. Just because I’m short doesn’t mean I’m harmless. It would probably be easier than you think, because you’re underestimating me.”

“Stop,” Jonah said, and Max blinked and held up his hands in concession. “You said you like zombies, right? Let’s talk about zombies. What’s your favorite zombie movie?”

“Shaun of the Dead,” Max said, and Jonah snorted. “You didn’t say what’s my favorite horror movie, you said what’s my favorite zombie movie. I love that movie. It’s the bastard child of a rom-com and a horror flick and it’s a genuine tearjerker to boot.”

“That’s fair,” Jonah said. “It is a good one. I’m more of a fan of Romero.”

“Well, that just shows you have good taste,” Max said. “Of course I love Romero. I still have the ticket stubs from the six times I saw Day of the Dead in theaters.”

“And… how old were you then?”

“Fourteen. First year of high school. Same year I started sneaking out to punk shows, actually.” Jonah looked up thoughtfully to do the math, and then back at Max.

“You don’t look your age.”

“That’s polite of you to say.” Max studied him for a moment. “What are you, early thirties?”

“Thirty-two.”

“You have a baby face under the stubble, don’t you.”

“That’s why I have it,” Jonah said dryly, “I look like a college kid without it.” Max huffed a laugh and turned to poke the potatoes with a fork, then put it down. 

“Yeah. I tried that when I was your age and it did not work at all for me. Some people just aren’t meant for facial hair and I’m one of them.” He hesitated, then added, “It looks good on you, though.”

“...thanks,” Jonah said, blatantly suspicious. Max rolled his eyes and turned the oven on.

“I’m not allowed to give you a compliment?”

“I just don’t know why you would.”

“You don’t care what I think anyways.”

“No, I don’t,” Jonah said unconvincingly. 

“Then it doesn’t matter what I say, whether it’s mean or nice. But I prefer to be nice.” Max looked into one of the fabric grocery bags he’d left on the counter and his face fell. “Oops…”

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to put the ice cream in the freezer,” Max said with a sigh. “Sorry, I fucked up dessert.”

“What kind of ice cream?” Jonah asked, and Max lifted a drippy carton of vanilla bean ice cream out of the bag. Jonah stood up and checked the label, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll go get more.”

“Really?”

“Well, you need to stay here and finish cooking, and I want to see what you had planned, so… yeah. I’ll go get it.”

“Thank you, Jonah, that’s really helpful of you.” 

“But definitely put that in the freezer because I have no qualms about eating re-frozen ice cream.”

“Sure thing,” Max said, picking up a sponge to wipe the drips off before doing as he’d been told. 

“I’ll be back in twenty,” Jonah said, and made his exit, leaving Max looking after him with a pensive expression.

“I just don’t know what to make of him,” Max muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he turned his attention back towards making dinner.

* * *

**Week 3 - Sunday**

“Max…” He didn’t respond. Kinga leaned over him and put a hand on his cheek. “Max, sweetness, did I break you?”

“No,” he breathed, blinking belatedly and looking up at her. “I’m sorry, Mistress, I just got a little overwhelmed at the thought.”

“I think that means it’s a good idea,” she said. “It’s not a punishment. I want to treat you like the treasure you are.”

“Whatever you want to do with me. I’m yours down to the slightest whim.” He hesitated a second, then added, “But it’s only been a punishment before.”

“Does that mean you don't trust me to be nice?” she asked, only half teasing. He shook his head quickly. 

“No, my Queen, of course I trust you! I'm…” He bit his lip until she arched her brows at him. “Even when it was a punishment, I liked what you were doing to me. If you're going to be sweet to me, I'm going to melt in your hands.”

“I'm going to be _so_ good to you,” she purred, catching his face between her hands to kiss both his cheeks and then his mouth. “Do you want it in here or on your bed?” 

“ _Please_ take me on my bed, please!” 

“I love how eager you are. Go on, then. I want you on your back. I’ll be along in a minute.” He scurried off, and Kinga smirked to herself as she reached into the drawer where they kept everything she needed to peg him. After a moment’s thought, she pulled her dress over her head rather than just up around her hips; she’d worn her pale peach lace bra and panties set to give him the impression that she’d bared herself at first glance. Her fingers danced over the strapless strap-on she’d yet to use with him, that he’d bought for her in a fit of optimism that hadn’t paid off the way he’d dreamed just yet. 

_Not quite yet_ , she thought, and closed her hand around the leather harness instead. Her career as a Domme had been defined by her aloofness, dealing or demanding the pleasure and pain of her clients without being affected by it herself, but oh, it was tempting to set that distance aside now, to let Max do what she’d only allowed Jonah to do in the years she’d been doing this and please her directly with his body. So many options, if only she would allow herself to take them… So much gratification that he'd be rapturous to provide her if only she’d let him do it. _Maybe next time,_ she told herself as she fixed a long, slender dildo into the harness and adjusted the straps around her hips. 

The nitrile gloves were purple, and she was never sure if that was just the color they came in or if he’d found them to suit her preferences. She picked up one, the lube he’d carefully selected to not irritate any of his chemical allergies, and after a second’s hesitation, his glasses from atop the neat pile he’d made of his clothes. “Are you ready for me, Max?” she called as she entered his room to find him on his back as ordered, but propped up on his elbows, watching the door with his lip caught between his teeth and his hands curled into the blankets to keep him from reaching for his cock, which was already full and flushed in anticipation of her touch.

“Yes, Mistress, I’m ready.” She walked over to the bed, heels sinking slightly into the plush carpet, set down the supplies on the bed next to him, and bent over to place his glasses on his face with a gentle touch to his cheek. “Oh?” He blinked up at her, and she smiled.

“I want you to watch me do this to you,” she purred. A tremor ran through him, and he nodded frantically. The other times she’d pegged him, she’d bent him over a bench and had at him, just enough preparation to make him yield to her before she put him in his place… tonight, she wanted more for both of them than a rough, punishing pounding. Tonight, she wanted to watch him fall to pieces under her focused attention.

“Thank you, Mistress,” he breathed as she took his hips in her hands, “oh, thank you so much.”

“Spread your legs for me, sweetness.” He did as he was told without hesitation, and she gave him a gentle tug toward her that he followed until his ample ass was right on the edge of the bed, thighs splayed wide to make room for her to do what she pleased with him. “Good boy.” She stared him in the eyes as she tugged the glove on, the gentle _snap_ as she pulled it into place followed by a whimper he didn’t even realize he’d made. “I really shortchanged myself by having you face down before,” she said as she drizzled lube over her fingertips. “You look _delicious_ , dear heart.” 

“I’m—” His breath left him in a rush when she reached down to part his cheeks with her ungloved hand, her gaze falling so she didn’t miss when she sent a gloved fingertip to rub gently against his asshole before flitting back up to appreciate the broken-open expression on his face. “Oh, god…” She teased him for a moment without pressing, coaxing him to relax when before she’d simply invaded his body like he’d needed to be conquered. This wasn’t a forceful taking; this was a survey of what she already owned, his body laid out for her leisurely perusal. “ _Please_ …”

“Oh, I _love_ it when you beg me. Use your words, Max. Please what?”

“Please put your finger inside me!” He’d barely gotten the words out before she pushed into him, slow and deliberate. His thighs quivered with tension and she bent to kiss one where she’d left a bite mark on it days before, a dark purple bruise adorning his pale flesh like a jewel. 

“You’re so tight,” she purred, and he let out a wordless whimper as she curled her finger slightly, his eyes going wide. “Don’t worry, precious. I’m not going to rush through this at all. I am going to take my sweet time getting you good and ready for me, and then I’m going to fuck you until you scream.” 

“That’s— oohh. That’s assuming I don’t scream immediately.” He tossed his head as she moved her finger back and forth, but lifted it a moment later to watch her as he’d been commanded. “I’m probably going to scream immediately,” he confessed in a wavery voice.

“That’s all right, sweetness. You go ahead and make all the noise you want to. I want to know _exactly_ how I’m making you feel.” His cock twitched against his belly when her fingertip tripped over the spot she’d been searching for, and her eyes lit up at the feeling of him tensing around her and the choked sound he made. “Good. Very good,” she purred, tracing his rim with a second finger before carefully insinuating it in beside the first. “You’re being so good for me.”

“I only ever want to be good for you,” he gasped.

“I know you do. And you are.” She pressed her fingers into him steadily, and he was surprised when _she_ shivered as they bottomed out. “I can feel your heartbeat,” she whispered, looking up to meet his gaze. 

“Oh, _fuck_ …” Her eyes widened as his pulse kicked up a notch at her words, his cheeks flushing darker. “Then you— you know exactly what you’re doing to me,” he breathed unsteadily, and she grinned.

“Your body is honest,” she said. “But it’s telling me the same thing your lips are.” She twisted her fingers and he squeezed his eyes shut with a moan. “Every single part of you is screaming that you love this.”

“I do…” Kinga tapped her fingers inside him and his legs jerked, a whine tearing out of his throat. “Oh, Mistress, I love _everything_ you do to me.” She played with him like her favorite toy, rubbing and fluttering and tapping her fingertips until he was shivering and sweating and begging in a broken voice, “Please, _please_ , fuck me _now_!”

“Is it too much, sweetness?” He nodded frantically, and she dragged her fingers out of him at a leisurely pace. “You want me inside you when you come,” she purred, and he nodded again, a little slower. “Oh, Max, you’re _so_ good for me…” She snapped the glove off and reached down to get a double handful of his bruise-marked ass, her hands sliding up the backs of his thighs and pressing his knees up toward his chest. He folded with no resistance, letting her manipulate him how she pleased. “Hold yourself for me.” He blinked up at her between his legs, panting like he’d run a race, and she beamed at him as she slicked up her strap-on and stepped in, teasing his entrance with just the tip. “I’m jealous of your cock, you know. I wish I could feel you wrapped around me right now,” she murmured as she slowly pushed into him.

“ _Oh_!” It wasn’t a scream, but it was close, a heartstruck sound wrenched out of his helplessly blissed-out body that made Kinga grin. “Oh, oh…” 

“I like you wordless.” His eyes were dark and wild, fixed on her devoutly, and she leaned in with her whole body to kiss him, her hips pressing flush against his plush rear as she caught his lips and licked into his mouth, tasting his whimpers directly. She wasn’t getting any good friction from the harness, but she didn’t need to be touched to respond to his need; his eager submission to her had her wet enough to soak through her panties simply from her delight in taking possession of him. His legs wrapped around her waist, tight enough to hold her in place, and she clicked her tongue and pressed his knees apart again. “Keep them open for me, sweetness.” 

“Y-yes… yes…” His whole body trembled as she pulled back and pushed into him again, and she clicked her tongue again and adjusted her angle until she got the scream she was going for, torn from his throat with an honesty he couldn’t restrain: “Oh, fuck, _Kinga_!” She nailed his prostate twice and on the third time he convulsed and came with a wail, cock twitching between them and spurting so high a few drops spattered against his glasses and dripped down his brightly flushed cheek. She stopped moving entirely, her knees going weak from the sight of him coming apart so comprehensively for her. After a moment his legs went limp, hanging over the edge of the bed, changing the angle and making him whimper in discomfort.

“Shhh,” she soothed him, easing her way out of his body with lots of gentle petting of his thighs. She unstrapped the harness and let it fall to the floor between her heels as she stepped out of them, prowling up the bed on hands and knees and leaning over to watch his face as he came back to his senses: a slow blink, then a faster one, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times before he gulped and and lifted his head slightly. “No, don’t,” she said softly, one hand on his cheek to guide his head back to the bed. “Just breathe, sweetness.” He nodded and let his eyes fall shut as his head fell back, waiting for his heart to stop pounding like it was trying to break free of his chest.

“Thank you, Mistress,” he whispered, barely enough breath to sound the words. She bit her lip and allowed herself the indulgence of reaching between her own legs, sliding her fingers under wet lace and into her throbbing cunt, doing nearly nothing to sate her ache to be filled but getting her fingers thoroughly coated in her juices.

“Want one more reward, dear heart?”

“I don’t know if I’ll survive it,” he said weakly, “but yes, please, anything you want to give me…” She lifted her soaked fingers to his lips and gently pressed them into his mouth. His eyes shot wide open when he realized the taste gracing his tongue was her own essence, and he whimpered and lapped at them eagerly, tongue running between her fingers to collect every last drop of her.

“That was _so_ much better than using it to punish you,” Kinga admitted, her mouth next to his ear. “You’re beautiful underneath me, Max.” She hesitated for a second and then thought _fuck it, why not_ , and leaned up to lick the drops of his release off his cheek, savoring her first taste of him like this. 

“Ahh…” She drew her fingers out of his mouth and Max let out a soft and fervent, “Holy fuck.” Their eyes met as she pulled back, and she’d never seen such pure bliss on his face before. “ _Thank you_ ,” he said again, and Kinga gave him a lazy, proud smile.

“You’re welcome, sweetness.”

She didn’t know how much time they had left. She didn’t care, either. Kinga collected Max into her arms, dug her fingers into his curls, and held him until she was good and ready to let go of him.


	4. A Favor (Part One); Punks Not Dead; How Can I Help?; A Favor (Part Two); A Change of Plans (Part One); A Change of Plans (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinga sends Max and Jonah on what none of them want to call a date (but it's a date). Jonah takes his responsibilities seriously, but sometimes he doesn't have much to do after all. Max asks Kinga to take care of him for a night and gets far more than he asked for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, uh, so there's going to be another chapter of this... and I am doing two Kink Bingo lines instead of one in it. Oops? 
> 
> This is super feelsy and I had so much fun writing it.

**Week 4 - Thursday**

“Max? Could you do something for me?” Kinga asked, tracing her fingertips over his heart. He let out a breathy laugh and lifted his head to look at her.

“Whatever’s in my power. You know that.”

“Could you get tickets to a concert tomorrow?”

“Probably.”

“Even if it’s sold out?”

“I hate to support scalpers, but I can easily pay scalper prices. What concert?”

“Against Me! is playing the Palace,” she said, and Max’s brows arched. “I need two tickets.”

“For you and Jonah?”

“Nnnnnot exactly,” Kinga hedged. Max arched a brow at her. “I want you to take him.”

“You want _me_ to take your boyfriend to a concert,” Max said disbelievingly. Kinga nodded. “ _Why_?”

“You like punk, he likes punk, I don’t like punk. He hasn’t seen the band since the lead singer transitioned, and he _really_ wants to. And he hates going to shows alone. Why, don’t you like the band?”

“Of course I do,” Max said. “Their recent albums have been savage. But you’re serious? You want me to take Jonah on a date.”

“It’s not a _date_ ,” Kinga sighed. “Unless you get him drunk, then all bets are off.” Max snorted loudly and shook his head. “I’d be really appreciative if you could do this for me,” she said softly, spreading her hand out against his chest. “It’d make him happy, it’d make me happy, and I don’t think you’d be miserable.”

“No, I’ll probably have a great time,” Max agreed. “Yes, fine. I’ll do it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. But you have to tell him about it. I don’t want this to be sprung on him when I show up tomorrow and have him accuse me of hijacking him.”

“I’ll tell him,” Kinga said. “Oh, Max, thank you so much, he’s going to be beside himself.”

“Tell him he can’t heckle me the entire time, too.” 

“He’s going to heckle you a little.”

“I can deal with a little. I can’t deal with it if it’s constant. It’d be nice if he could be grateful instead of snarky.”

“I’ll see what I can do about that,” Kinga said, and leaned in to kiss Max. “Thank you, sweetness.”

* * *

**Week 4 - Friday**

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Jonah muttered as he and Max stood in a line outside of the venue surrounded by punks of all ages, sizes, and genders. “I look like I’m at a show with my dad.”

“Ouch,” Max said, looking genuinely hurt. “I’m not _that_ much older than you.”

“Hey, you said you were a bad teenager, I _could_ be your son.”

“Look, if you want to split up when we get inside, that’s on you. I told Kinga I’d come with you, not babysit you.”

“ _Babysit_ ,” Jonah snorted, and Max smirked up at him. “I don’t want to lose you in the crowd. You’re so short that when you’re gone, you’re gone.”

“You’re so tall that if I want to find you, I’ll find you,” Max pointed out, and Jonah snorted again.

“Yeah, but do you?”

“I have no intention of losing track of you whether we stay together or go our own ways,” Max said. Jonah blinked at him and then shrugged.

“We might as well stick together, then.” Max’s lips twitched in amusement but he didn’t say anything as they moved past the door and into the venue. “You want to get close?” Jonah asked after they got overpriced beers at the bar, and Max shrugged.

“If you want. I’m just as happy on the sidelines.”

“I prefer to be in the thick of things,” Jonah admitted, and Max eyed him up and down.

“Yeah, well, you’ve got the wingspan to enforce your personal space.”

“Come on,” Jonah said with a grin, and started cutting his way through the crowd, using those long arms to elbow people aside until they’d pushed right in front of the stage, where he put Max in front of him. “How’s this?” he said cheerfully.

“I’ll let you know if I survive,” Max said dryly. Jonah reached around him to lean against the stage with one hand propped against it as he sipped his beer, and Max glanced thoughtfully at Jonah’s arm pressing against his shoulder without remarking on it. As the venue filled, they were pushed closer together, but Jonah maintained a few inches’ distance between their bodies until the opener came on and a mosh pit broke out a few people away. 

As the shoving ebbed closer, Jonah started pushing back, elbowing anyone who dared encroach on them, not letting anyone get close enough to touch Max even as he was knocked from behind until he reeled into Max and put a hand on his shoulder to catch himself.

“This isn’t my first mosh pit!” Max shouted. “I can take the bruises!”

“You’re too old to let people hurt you unintentionally,” Jonah insisted, standing his ground and pushing back. Max blinked, frowned, blinked some more, bit back a smile, and didn’t protest further, letting Jonah defend him if that was what he wanted to do. It had been a very long time since anyone had had his back at a punk show, and he’d _never_ been so well protected as he was now.

By the time the opener left the stage, they'd been pushed so much that Jonah had lost ground, finding himself pressed against Max's back. As the crowd thinned a little and gave him room to step back, Jonah hesitated. 

Max tilted his head back to look up at Jonah, grinning widely. “Thanks,” he said, leaning back deliberately into Jonah's sturdy form. Jonah settled his hands on Max's shoulders and smiled back, not sure if his heart was racing from the energy of the show or from their proximity. He never did find out: they stayed in contact for the whole rest of the concert, front and center of the stage watching wide-eyed as Laura Jane Grace tore apart a killer setlist.

* * *

**Week 5 - Tuesday**

“What can I do to help?” Jonah asked as he came into the kitchen.

“Nothing at all,” Max said. “I’ve got everything in hand tonight. I put the lasagna together at home, I just had to pop it in the oven.”

“Oh,” Jonah said, hesitating only a second before he crossed the room and sat at the table anyways. “You don’t need me for _anything_?”

“Just the pleasure of your company,” Max said easily, smiling at the way Jonah lit up at his words. “How many bruises did you collect at the concert?”

“I’ll put it this way, Kinga gasped when she saw my back last night.”

“She’s probably jealous she didn’t put them there,” Max laughed. “I didn’t get a single new one. You did a good job protecting me.” 

“Good,” Jonah said. “She’d be more angry with you than she would with me if you showed up wearing bruises she didn’t leave herself.”

“Oh, so you were acting on her behalf.”

“No.” When Max arched a brow, Jonah elaborated: “You wouldn’t have been in danger if I hadn’t dragged you in front of the stage… I made you my responsibility when I insisted we get closer. I kept you safe for my own sake, and for yours, not for hers.”

“Well, whatever your motivation, thank you,” Max said. “And thanks for giving me a reason to go to that show. I had a wonderful time.”

“Me too… thanks for bringing me.”

* * *

**Week 6 - Thursday**

"I have a favor to ask you," Max said, eyes still closed, on his knees with his head on Kinga's lap as she sat in her throne running her fingers through his hair at the end of their scene, naked body littered with the bruises she'd left all over him the night before, "but the word favor doesn't imply I want you to do it for free and I won't be upset if you say no."

"Okay," she said. "What's the favor?"

"I have an outpatient procedure next week, and I need someone to drive me home from the hospital afterwards and stay with me for a few hours while the drugs work through my system." Her fingers went still, and he opened his eyes to find her studying him. "I don't have anyone else I trust when I'm in a vulnerable state. But I know you won't do anything to hurt me if I don't consent to it in my right mind," he said quietly.

"What day?" she asked, voice neutral but eyes wide.

"Thursday."

"Oh, that's a day we spend together anyways," she said, and he nodded. "When would you need to be picked up?"

"Around three, if everything goes well."

"And you'd need me to stay a few hours?"

"Until I sober up enough to not burn the place down around me if I try to make food. Well... ideally, overnight, but I don't feel like I can ask for that."

"You can ask," she said, resuming petting his hair. "I can't give you an answer if you don't ask."

"...would you be willing to spend the night here?" The hope in his eyes went straight to her heart. Kinga offered him a small smile and a scrape of her nails against his scalp.

"Yes. I can stay and keep an eye on you."

"Really? You'd do that for me?" Hope morphed into surprise, and her smile widened.

"I can hardly claim to have taken good care of you if I abandon you when you need my help, can I? I'll stay until you don't need me to watch you any more."

"I thought I wasn't allowed to cut into your time with Jonah."

"Jonah can survive without me for one night," she said softly. "And I'd like to ensure that you survive with me for one night."

"What would you like in exchange for your time?"

"Nothing. I know you said you didn't expect it to be a free favor, but I'm not going to be in Domme mode, so it isn't work. I'm just taking care of a— a dear friend." She surprised herself with her answer, but not as much as she surprised him.

Max breathed in deliberately slowly and released it on a sigh of delight. "Thank you... Kinga." He tried not to look ridiculously blissful, but the smile he suppressed shone clearly through his eyes. She bent to kiss his forehead.

"You're welcome. So what's the procedure?"

"Oh, I'm having my gallbladder removed. It's pretty routine, but I tend to have an, uh, an iffy reaction to being put under."

"Iffy how?"

"Nothing bad, I'm just... really overly honest for the rest of the day. I promise I won't be hard to handle aside from maybe being a little bratty."

"You? Bratty? I wonder if you'd dare, you've been so good for me recently."

"I guess we'll find out," he said dreamily. He'd given her plenty of reasons to reward him once the consequences of his actions occupied a whole night with pleasure for pleasing her during the week. She'd never seen him on any kind of drugs, or drunk, for that matter— nothing but sober and entirely present in his body when he was in her hands. "I don't want to disappoint you."

"You haven't disappointed me since things changed," she said softly, giving his hair a gentle tug, and he fell silent.

Her dissertation defense was in two weeks. Neither of them had broached the topic of when exactly their professional relationship would end: Max avoided it because he was terrified of the day she unlocked him for good and let him go forever, and Kinga avoided it because she found herself increasingly loathe to part ways with him after spending so much time and attention on him alone in the past six weeks. Two years of weekly meetings had made her fond of him, but their bond had deepened considerably since they started spending so much of the week in each other's company, taking their relationship and his submission to places they'd simply never had the time to reach before.

He'd thrived under her attention, in ways neither of them had ever thought to anticipate: he hadn't had a nightmare since the night she'd accepted him as her sole focus, his chronic sleep debt easing, and the shadows under his eyes not quite so stark. He wore the bruises she left on his skin like medals of honor, head held high but when he bowed it for her, and there was a dignity to his bearing that he didn't try to undercut with self-deprecation even when he wasn't with her.

Kinga's phone chimed at her, and they both sighed as Max reluctantly lifted his head from her lap and sat up straight in front of her, and she put her stocking feet on his bare thighs as she unhooked his glasses from where she’d been wearing them on the front of her corset and leaned down to place them gently on his face.

"Are you ready to be locked up again?"

"Yes, my Queen."

"No last requests?"

"Only the same request I always have, Mistress. Kiss me goodbye when you leave me, please."

"Of course, sweetness."

 

* * *

**Week 7 - Wednesday**

“We’re going to have to change our plans tonight, sweetness,” Kinga said as Max helped her off with her coat. “I certainly can’t send you into surgery freshly bruised and caged.”

“I think I’ll get enough pain tomorrow to not need more of it tonight,” he said dryly as he hung it up. “Did you have something in mind to replace it?”

“I did, in fact.” Her gaze was intent on him when he turned around, and her smile was unexpectedly tender. “I thought we’d try a new way for you to serve me.”

“However you want me, Mistress,” he said fervently, and she cupped his cheek and leaned down to kiss him. 

“Get me a glass of wine and meet me in our room,” she purred.

“Yes, my Queen.” Max hummed to himself quietly as he went into the kitchen and poured her a glass of chardonnay that almost slipped from his suddenly nerveless fingers when he walked into the room to find her gloriously naked and reclining across her throne with her legs demurely crossed, copper hair freed of the knot she’d been wearing when she arrived and scattered over her pale freckled shoulders, every creamy curve of her set off against the dark purple velvet beneath her. The only thing she wore was his key on the delicate chain around her neck. He clutched at the glass and spilled a little onto the hardwood floor, mouth opening and shutting wordlessly a couple of times. Kinga smirked hard and beckoned him closer with one finger.

“Come here, Max.” He approached her slowly, with reverence, and she held out an imperious hand to take possession of the wine glass. “On your knees, sweetness.”

“Just like this?” he asked in bemusement, tugging at one cuff of his suit jacket.

“ _Just_ like that,” she purred. “Yes.” He licked his lips and sank into place before her, and her free hand ran through his hair and pulled his head back so she could stare into his eyes. “I want you to worship me with your mouth.”

“ _Please_ ,” he gasped, trembling with eagerness. “Oh, yes, please, let me do that for you, Mistress.” She uncrossed her legs and spread her thighs wide, and he whimpered at his first glimpse of her silky-smooth cunt as she pulled him in with the hand in his hair. 

“Be a very good boy for me, Max.” He hardly needed the admonition. She’d graced him with tastes of her juices from her fingers, but he’d never been allowed to put his mouth on her like this before. He was entirely determined to do it well enough to maybe be allowed to do it again before she cut him loose.

“May I touch you with my hands, too?” he asked.

“You may,” she cooed, and sipped her wine slowly as he set his hands on her thighs and fought a sigh at the softness of her skin. He looked like a snake being charmed from the intensity of his gaze between her legs, and she smirked and scratched her nails through his hair. “Are you enchanted with my cunt?” she asked in amusement. He blinked at the word and then smiled shyly up at her.

“I just want to remember everything about this,” he said. “But… yes, I am. Every part of you is beautiful, and I’ve wanted to see this part for quite a while.” She breathed a laugh as he leaned closer and sweetly kissed her soft pink folds, his tongue flirting out to dance across her clit. 

“Ohhh,” Kinga sighed quietly as he moved his mouth over her, his hands stroking her thighs almost absentmindedly as he studied the shape of her with intense focus. “Oh, sweetness, I should have let you do this sooner. I’ve wanted to for weeks.” He whimpered at the thought of the nights he’d lost out on worshipping her like this but didn’t make a complaint, too preoccupied with the sweet, tart taste of her when his tongue delved inside her. “I’ve wanted to do several things with you we haven’t done before,” she admitted quietly, and they both heard the end of the sentence she didn’t speak aloud: _but now we’re running out of time_.

Max was determined to not let what might have been ruin his enjoyment of what he had in front of him here and now, not when she was pulling him into her with urgency, soft little sounds slipping out of her as he licked and lapped at her. His tongue traced between and through her folds like a puzzle box with bliss at the end of the correct sequence, navigating to the pitch of her whimpers and the tension of her hand clutching his curls. He set a fingertip at her entrance and just barely pressed in until she purred.

“Yes, use your fingers.... _Very_ good.” His hands were square and strong and agile, and he touched her not like she was fragile but like she was priceless, deliberately and firmly and so carefully. Kinga reveled in his touch, in the sight of him in his expensive suit that looked so good on him on his knees with his head bowed between her legs as if in communion with the divine. He slid a second finger into her and curled them, catching her clit between his pursed lips, and Kinga gasped as her first orgasm sent a spasm through her whole body.

“ _Oh!_ ” He glanced up to find her staring down at him, eyes heavy-lidded in satisfaction, and she petted his hair gently.

“I didn’t tell you to stop, sweetness.”

“No, Mistress,” he mumbled directly into her flesh, and redoubled his efforts to please her, lapping around where his fingers penetrated her to not lose a drop of the wetness proving that he was pleasing her very well before tracing circles around her clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh, _Max_....” The sound of his name in that tone of her voice made him feel lightheaded, as if he’d float away if she released his hair from her firm grip; all he wanted was for her to say it again, and he got that shaky cried endearment as he made her come again twice before she pulled him away. “Fuck, Max, you are _such_ a good boy for me.” She slumped back in her throne, flushed and disheveled with pleasure, one hand cupping his cheek. His fingers went straight from her cunt into his mouth, and he whimpered softly as he sucked the taste of her from his own skin. “Come up here,” she demanded, pulling him up by the lapel of his suit until he was leaning over her and hauling him down to be kissed. 

“Thank you,” he breathed, and she gave him a lazy smile and handed him her empty wine glass.

“Go put that down and then sit on the bench,” she ordered, and his brows arched as he moved to obey her. She stretched languidly and let out a pleased hum before she got to her feet to follow him across the room, nudging his feet apart to stand between them and lean down to kiss him again. “All right, sweetness…” She unzipped and unbuttoned his pants to pull him out and then went to her knees, smiling at his wide-eyed wonder to see her there. She leaned in to unlock his cage and set it on the floor beside her, biting her lip against a laugh at how quickly he became erect as soon as he wasn’t physically restrained from doing so. “You can touch my hair, but if you pull it, I _will_ bite you,” she warned, and took him into her mouth.

“Oh my god, _Mistress_ , thank you,” he gasped, and put his hands politely not on her head but on her shoulders, winding the ends of her hair through his fingers. She reached up to hook her fingers in the breast pocket of his suit as she slid her lips down around him, enjoying the fine weave against her skin. There was a particular pleasure in sucking off a well-dressed man that was like the cherry on top of her enjoyment of doing this with him, but oh, the pleasure of his whimpers and moans and trembles for her was such a sweet and tasty treat already. “Ohh, your _mouth_ …” 

Kinga hummed in delighted response, tracing her tongue against him as she pulled back. “You look _so_ handsome,” she purred, “and you’re _so_ very good.” He shivered and his legs closed slightly, and she pushed them apart and turned to bite at one thigh through his pants, stroking his cock slowly. “Tell me something…”

“Anything, anything you want…”

“How do I look down here?” She struck a pose looking up at him, back slightly arched and lips pursed promisingly. 

“You look like a goddess,” he said softly. “I feel like I'm being blessed.”

“Good answer, sweetness.” She'd worried a little about whether this would come off submissively, but he lifted her even higher in his view, never forgetting his place. Too pleased to tease, she took him back between her lips and slowly eased her way down until her nose was pressed into the open fly of his pants.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he whimpered, daring to curl his fingers at the back of her neck not to hold her but to caress her nape adoringly. His thighs tensed but he kept his legs where she put them and his hips stayed put even if he trembled to remain still. She bobbed her head and flicked her tongue and dragged a whine out of him with every suck. “Oh, god, Kinga, I _can’t_ —” She tickled his balls and he came with a yelp straight into her avid mouth. 

With a heavy-lidded stare into his eyes, she rose from her knees and perched herself on his thigh, leaning in to catch his mouth to feed his release back to him in a filthy, messy kiss that left her licking his lips clean before she withdrew. Max almost fell off the bench, but swallowed obediently and wrapped his arms around her to drop his head against her chest. “ _Very_ good,” she purred, petting his hair. “Very, very good boy.”

* * *

**Week 7 - Thursday**

“Hello, Your Majesty,” Max chirped when Kinga came up to him where he’d been parked in a wheelchair by the nurse’s station. He looked pale and tired and the corners of his eyes were pinched with pain, but he smiled to see her. 

“Hello, sweetness.” She smiled and stroked her fingers through his hair before turning to the discharge nurse to sign him out. “Anything I need to know to take care of this goofball tonight?”

“Give him the pain pills as prescribed, don’t give them to him early. Ice packs on the incision sites for about fifteen minutes every hour should relieve the swelling. Don’t take the bandages off for the first 24 to 48 hours. He might be gassy, that’s normal. And he shouldn’t walk around too much the first couple of days, bed rest is strongly encouraged. He shouldn’t go back to work for a week or two, it depends on how fast he heals, but definitely not before Monday after next.”

“Okay,” Kinga said. The nurse eyed the way she clasped the back of Max’s neck, a touch that could be interpreted as possessiveness or reassurance.

“And no sex until it’s cleared by his doctor,” she added.

“Not the first thing on my mind after abdominal surgery,” Max said, but he looked a little disappointed. Privately, Kinga was disappointed too, but she thought that injunction probably only applied if he was being active about it… maybe she could still get him off if she ordered him to be still for her. It’d be a shame not to, with the end of their association looming over their heads like a sword of Damocles waiting to fall. 

“Yes, well, when it’s back on your mind, refrain until you get the okay,” the nurse said. “Last thing you want to do is pop your stitches.”

“Believe me, I’m going to take it easy,” Max said. “I haven’t taken personal time in ages. I’m going to binge Netflix and sleep until I don’t feel tired any more.”

“Sounds like a plan,” the nurse said. “Taking it easy is the best thing you can do right now.”

“I’ll make sure he does,” Kinga said, and Max smiled up at her. “Come on, dear heart, let’s get you home.” 

He moved gingerly from the wheelchair to the passenger seat of her car when she got him outside, the lines around his eyes deepening as he clicked the seatbelt into place. The orderly took the wheelchair back inside as Kinga slid into the driver’s seat and leaned across the center console to kiss his cheek.

“Well, Max, how bratty do you feel now?”

“Not very,” he said. “I’d like to get home and get horizontal and maybe have you play with my hair until I can think about something besides how I’ve just been cut open.”

“I can do that for you,” she agreed easily. 

“Thank you, Mistress.”

“Not tonight. Tonight I’m just Kinga,” she said, reaching over to squeeze his knee gently. 

“Thank you… Kinga.” He’d been allowed to use her name on Tuesday nights, but it was easy to hear the reverence in his voice whenever he spoke it aloud, and it wasn’t any different now with him muzzy from the lingering effects of anaesthesia. “Thank you for everything.”

“It’s the least I can do to express how grateful I am to have you in my life.” Max’s cheeks flared pink, and Kinga smiled at him. “Let’s go, once I get you tucked into bed the intensive comforting can begin.”

“Yes _please_.”

She’d seen him in sweaters, shirtsleeves, suits, and of course, in nothing but his skin; she had never seen him so casual as when he settled into bed in a Clash t-shirt and loose sweatpants. She shook out a pain pill into her palm and he opened his mouth to let her place it on his tongue, and she tried to keep the word _vulnerable_ out of her mind because the urge to hold him down and take gentle advantage of his dozy languor was lurking at the back of her head. Surely it wouldn’t be a terrible thing for her to pin his hips to the bed and give him a leisurely blowjob, would it? _Behave yourself_ , she thought sternly as she settled into bed next to him and let him lay his head on her bosom. 

“What would you like to watch?” she asked, reaching for the remote to the smart TV mounted on the wall across from his bed. “Something funny, something scary…”

“Something pretty to look at,” he said. “Might as well take advantage of my severe case of _ooh, shiny_ right now.”

“Cartoons, or nature documentaries?”

“Cartoons, please. Documentaries will depress me right now. Everything beautiful is going extinct or coming to an end.” He didn’t look up at her, but the sorrow in his voice was clear enough to read. She held her tongue and brought up the Dragon Prince on Netflix and let him watch the trailer. “Yes, this is good, thank you.”

Kinga made a few acerbic comments as they watched the show, but for the most part they cuddled without saying anything to each other except for Max apologizing after he burped every few minutes. “Oh, stop, it’s a side effect, you don’t have to pardon yourself every time,” Kinga chided him.

“But it’s rude… I don’t want to be rude to you.”

“I’m formally releasing you from that convention of politeness until you’re all healed up. Now stop arguing.”

“Yes, Mi— yes, Kinga,” he corrected himself in a delighted tone, and settled back into her embrace. They watched straight through several episodes before the screen dimmed, and before she could hit “yes” to the check that they were still watching, he wrapped his hand around her wrist. “Kinga?” 

“Yes, sweetness?” 

“What’s going to happen next week?” His voice was very, very small, and her breath caught in her throat. “After you earn your doctorate?”

“Mm, I’ll go out to a bar and have a glass of wine and if anyone asks me who I am I’ll gratuitously introduce myself as Dr. Kinga Forrester.” He looked up at her, expression still, dark eyes terrified, and she bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Max. I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure it out and I keep circling around the same couple of truths like a plane waiting to land, running out of fuel the whole time.”

“What truths?”

“I love Jonah, I want to marry him and settle down… but I love you, too. And I don’t want to let go of you.” 

Max made a sound that she’d only heard from him right before he used his safe word, a heartstruck blend of pleasure and pain. 

“I don’t want to cut you loose and watch you founder. I want you to be mine to care for, to love and cherish and hurt and please. I want to go on like we’ve been doing for the past two months, spending so much time with you in my hands, because I can see how good it’s been for you and it’s— it’s been really good for me, too.” 

His eyes filled with tears while she spoke, but he didn’t look away from her, letting them well up and spill over without trying to hide them from her. Gently, she brushed a finger against his cheek, then leaned in to press her lips to his other one, trying to hide the fact that she was tearing up too.

“If you want to keep me, why don’t you?” His voice was shaky but his question was pointed.

“I— I don’t—” she stammered, and he exhaled a shuddery sigh.

“What do you have to prove? I get why you’d wanted to quit when you were still dealing with dozens of clients, but… it’s just me now. And I don’t want to be your client. I just want to be _yours_.” If she wasn’t looking him in the eyes, she’d almost forget that he wasn’t in possession of himself, but his pupils were blown in a way she’d only seen before right after she’d pushed him over the edge of orgasm.

“Max…” 

“Is it just because Jonah wouldn’t be happy? Because I could— I could talk to him, I think we’re on okay terms now, he might—”

“Max.” She put a finger across his lips, and he subsided into silence. “I don’t want to be a sex worker forever.” He reached up to move her hand, lacing their fingers together and holding her tightly. “It feels wrong to ask for your money when I genuinely care about you.”

“Kinga, honestly, I don’t _care_ about the money! I _like_ providing for you, you like having me in your possession, why can’t we— why can’t we just keep going on like this? Is sex work really all this is to you, still? Just a job you’re looking forward to quitting once you get a better one?”

“No! Of course not!” 

“Is that all _I_ am to you?”

“Max, no, you’re— you’re precious to me.” 

“Then don’t leave me,” he pleaded. “Please, Kinga, _please,_ don’t leave me.” He was the picture of heartbreak, tears coursing down his blotchy cheeks, unselfconscious in his pain. All she could do was lift his hand up and press her lips to it, giving herself a moment to try to pull herself together.

“I won’t,” she whispered, and when she found her voice steady she echoed it, louder. “I won’t leave you.”

“You won’t?” His eyes widened, and she nodded.

“I don’t want to. You don’t want me to. Hell, _Jonah_ doesn’t want me to.”

“He doesn’t?” Max blinked, taken aback, and she reached up to wipe the tears from his face.

“No. He likes that you’re around to deal with all the kinky stuff I like and he doesn’t.” He breathed a surprised laugh, lips twitching up, and she leaned in to kiss the tremulous smile away. 

“Could you— could you tell me again?” She didn’t pretend not to know what he meant; she’d been keeping this truth pent up inside her for weeks and it was a relief to finally put voice to it.

“I love you, Max.” He looked radiantly happy, but his eyes were still full of tears.

“I love you too. God, I’ve wanted to say that for _so long_. Kinga, I love you, I love you, I love you.” He put a hand on her cheek and she turned her head into his touch, both of them relishing the first time he’d returned a gesture she’d made to him nearly every time she’d seen him since the day they met. “I want to lay the entire world at your feet.”

“Let’s just start with you laying yourself in my hands,” she said softly. 

“I’ve been doing that all along, though.”

“Yes, sweetness. You don’t need to do any more than that tonight. I’m taking care of you right now.” She turned her head to kiss his palm, and they both sighed, relieved of a great weight of dread that had been bearing them down until they shared the courage to throw it off.


	5. Paradigm Shift; Mazel Tov, Doctor Mistress; Movie Night; Back in Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonah wants to repay a favor and gets more than he bargained for when Max takes it to heart. Celebrating Kinga's success might have been better done at a different restaurant. Max ventures into Jonah's game room for cuddling and a zombie movie. Kinga knows what she wants to do when Max gets the all-clear from his doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...it's still not done. Bear with me... it'll be done soon.
> 
> There's no smut in this chapter. It's all fluff. Don't worry, there's more smut coming in chapter six.

**Week 8 - Tuesday**

“Don’t get up,” Kinga said as she came into Max’s home holding a fabric grocery bag over one arm. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Max said from where he was lying on the couch, but he sat up straight when Jonah followed her in carrying a crockpot. “Oh. Hi.”

“Hi,” Jonah said, looking around wide-eyed at Max’s decor, which was understated but clearly expensive. “Nice place you’ve got.”

“Thanks,” Max said, brow furrowed slightly. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but why are you here?”

“You’ve been taking care of our needs for two months… it’s time we take care of you when you need it,” Kinga said. 

Jonah rolled his eyes slightly, holding the crockpot up. “I made dinner. In the crockpot, so I couldn’t fuck it up if I tried.”

“Did you rope him into this?” Max asked in bemusement, and Kinga shook her head.

“When I told him that this is what I had planned for tonight, he volunteered to cook for you.”

“ _Really_?”

“Oh, don’t look so surprised,” Jonah said. “I kind of owe you.”

“Do you?”

“Don’t I? I’m not part of your… your _thing_. But I’ve been benefiting from it. So, why shouldn’t I do something nice for you when you’ve been so nice to me?” Jonah shrugged. “Where’s your kitchen?”

“Stay right there, I’ll show him,” Kinga said, and Max watched them walk past, completely confused by Jonah’s presence in his home but willing to see where this was going. A minute later Kinga came back out and sat down next to him. “So, sweetness… how are you feeling today?”

“Pretty much the same,” Max said, smiling when she took his hand. “Sore, tired, kinda dopey from the painkillers. Not going stir-crazy yet, though.”

“Good.” She leaned in to kiss him sweetly and didn’t pull back when they heard Jonah click his tongue behind them.

“I guess I have to deal with this when I’m in your home,” Jonah said, but he didn’t look nearly as annoyed as he was trying to sound. “Bread’s in the oven, dinner should be ready in twenty minutes.”

“What did you make?” Max asked, shifting over on the couch to make room for Jonah at the other end. Kinga moved over with him and leaned against him carefully.

“Rustic beef stew,” Jonah replied. 

“Rustic means he left the skins on the potatoes,” Kinga said, and Jonah huffed as he sat next to her. 

“That's not true.”

“But you _did_ leave the skins on.”

“...yes, but that's not what makes it rustic. The bottle of wine in the broth is what makes it rustic.”

“That’s valid,” Max said. “Well, thank you for cooking for me, I really appreciate you going through the effort.”

“Don’t thank me until you taste it,” Jonah said. “But… you’re welcome. I’m, uh… I’m happy to do something nice for you. But I’m definitely not cleaning your place.”

“Are you sure? We could get you a cute little French maid outfit,” Kinga said with a laugh in her voice, and Jonah glared at her with no heat behind it.

“He doesn’t wear a French maid outfit at _our_ place,” Jonah said, pointing at Max with his chin. Max smiled.

“That’s for _your_ comfort, I’m sure Kinga wouldn’t be averse.” He pointed his toes and added, “but I don’t have the legs for it like you do.”

“He really _does_ have the legs for it,” Kinga said dreamily. “Don’t worry, boys, I’m not planning on putting either of you in a skirt. Max looks too good in his suits, and if Jonah’s going to let me get away with something kinky, I’m not going to waste that on a kink I don’t even have.”

“Sorry the couple of kinks I do have don’t line up with yours,” Jonah said with a roll of his eyes. 

“Oh, you actually have some?” Max asked, brows arched. “And here I thought you were entirely wholesome.”

“He’s not even slightly wholesome,” Kinga said. “He’s just dirty in a vanilla way. Except for his degrading and nonconsensual kinks.” Max’s jaw dropped and his hand flew up to cover his mouth.

“ _Really_?”

“Not like _that_ ,” Jonah said, mildly horrified. “Exhibitionism is not a nonconsensual kink, dammit!”

“If you don’t get the consent of everyone who sees you before it happens, you’re nonconsensually involving people in your own sexual gratification,” Kinga said primly. 

“Ohhh,” Max said, letting his hand fall. “Okay, that scans a lot better with what I know of you. _That’s_ your hangup? How specific is this?”

“What do you mean?” Jonah asked.

“Is it being watched that excites you, or is it the danger of maybe getting caught?”

“Uh…”

“Because if you just want someone to watch you, _I volunteer as tribute_.” Kinga snorted loudly, patting Max’s thigh.

“I, uh, I didn’t really… consider that…” For someone who wanted to be watched, Jonah looked an awful lot like a deer in the headlights under Max’s steady gaze, blushing harder by the second as Kinga arched her brows expectantly. “That— that would probably do it. Um.” 

“As long as Kinga’s okay with it,” Max said, and Kinga let out an evil giggle.

“Oh, I’m getting ideas already,” she said with relish. “If you’ll let me get the two of you into one bed, hoo boy, do I have _plans_.”

“Wait, wait a second, I didn’t—” Jonah stuttered.

“I’ll do whatever you tell me to,” Max said to Kinga, and she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Like I always do.”

“What about what _I_ tell you to?” Jonah asked, and Max gave him an entirely amused look.

“You’re not my dominant,” he said cheerfully. “You make suggestions. She gives commands.”

“I mean, I guess that’s fair,” Jonah said. “This is… kinda complicated, isn’t it?”

“It doesn’t have to be if you trust me,” Kinga said. 

“What are your other kinks?” Max asked. “You said a couple. Just out of professional curiosity.”

“Professional,” Jonah snorted. 

“Fine, out of my own personal and entirely prurient curiosity.”

“Well…” Kinga rolled her eyes when Jonah hesitated, and he huffed. “I like being deepthroated and Kinga hates doing it.” Max turned his curious look on her, and she pursed her lips.

“Wait until you see him with his pants off before you give me that look,” she said. “If anyone’s air supply is getting cut off, I prefer to be the one doing it, not the one having it done to them.”

“Oh,” Max said, gaze darting to Jonah’s lap before bouncing back up to meet his eyes. “ _Interesting_.” Jonah pushed his glasses up his nose and hid behind his hand a little, and Max prompted him, “Any others?”

“Um… golden showers,” Jonah said behind his hand, and Max quickly stifled a laugh as he adjusted his own glasses.

“I can see why she doesn’t indulge you. All of that goes straight against her sense of dignity.”

“Yeah, well… being shot down by someone who does kinky stuff professionally wasn’t great for _my_ sense of dignity either.”

“Let’s put a pin in this,” Max said, and Jonah dropped his hand.

“Wait, _what_?”

“I think you and I should discuss this at more length.”

“Uh…” Jonah blinked a couple of times, and Max’s lips quirked up.

“Unless you’re too straight for me to be a satisfactory answer to your desires, in which case, let me know now so I can stop making plans before I get too invested in them.”

“This is _not_ what I expected to come from me making you dinner,” Jonah said weakly.

“Yeah, because I’m _totally_ not the type to be seduced by being taken care of,” Max snorted. “That’s definitely not one of my love languages. Or my primary one, for that matter.”

“I thought you were straight! I thought it would be a friendly gesture!”

“I told you he’d take it to heart,” Kinga said chidingly. “But you insisted on coming.”

“Well, I didn’t— I didn’t think you meant _this_ would happen.” 

“This is what you get for coming into my home uninvited,” Max said.

“I get a reward for barging in?” Jonah asked, and Max’s eyes went wide.

“Is that how you consider it?”

“What part of getting my embarrassing kinks accommodated by my girlfriend’s adorable sub is not a reward?” 

“You think I’m adorable?” Max beamed, and Jonah’s lips twisted to one side.

“I told you you were objectively cute the day I met you.”

“Yeah, and then you told me I had massive character defects.”

“I wasn’t setting out to insult you. And you don’t have massive character defects. You’re a sweetheart who thrives on praise. I want to pet your hair and call you good.” Jonah’s phone started beeping, and he pulled it out of his pocket to turn it off. “Dinner will be ready in about five minutes,” he said, and disappeared into the kitchen.

“Well, that’s _one_ way to establish a clear divide between our before and after,” Kinga said with a laugh in her voice. “Honestly, Max.”

“I’m not going to apologize unless this blows up in my face, in which case I will probably cry while I make my apologies,” Max said, and Kinga smirked and laced her fingers through his.

“Oh, sweetness, I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about that. You don’t know how much you just endeared yourself to him.”

“Am I getting in over my head?”

“Very much so, but I think you’ll enjoy it anyways,” she laughed. 

“...is he really going to pet my hair and call me good?” 

“I mean, if you’ve got his cock in your mouth, that’s pretty much guaranteed to happen.” She stood up and offered him her hands to help him up. “Come on, time to go make fun of his cooking prowess.” Max’s condo didn’t have a dining room, but there was a breakfast nook in the kitchen lined with bench seats. Kinga mother-henned Max right away, concerned by the way he blinked dizzily as they came into the room. “Here, sit down,” she clucked, not satisfied until he’d settled on one side of the table and she could bend to kiss his hair. 

“Yes, Mistress,” he said lightly as she pressed him to sit. “I’m _fine_ , you don’t have to baby me.”

“Sweetness, if I want to take extravagant care of you, shut up and let me do it.” He looked up at her with a smile, and she cupped his cheek and kissed his forehead.

“He’s a grown man,” Jonah said, coming to the table with a plate bearing several thick slices of crusty bread that was still steaming slightly, a big lump of softened butter, and a butter knife, and setting it down in the center. “He doesn’t need to be spoiled.”

“Stay out of this,” Kinga and Max simultaneously said, and then Max giggled. “Oh. Maybe I _like_ being spoiled.”

“ _Maybe_ ,” Jonah said with a snort. 

“Maybe I’m used to always being the one doing the spoiling and it’s nice to be on the other side of it,” Max added. “Maybe you should be nicer to me.” He reached for a slice of bread and started buttering it.

“Maybe I should,” Jonah said, a smile touching his lips as he turned away to finish serving the meal. “Maybe I had some thoughts about that already.”

“Maybe you should save it until after dinner,” Kinga said.

“Maybe you should save it for the ten to twenty days it’ll take for my doctor to tell me I can get laid again,” Max said, and Jonah scoffed.

“Maybe I’m thinking about totally innocent ways to show my…”

“Interest?” Kinga asked.

“Affection?” Max said in a more hopeful tone. Jonah came back to the table to set a bowl and a spoon in front of Max and pursed his lips playfully.

“Either of those works,” he said. “I was going to say appreciation. But sure. I’m interested and affectionate and appreciative.” Lip between his teeth, he passed one big hand over Max’s curls, and Max let out a happy sigh and closed his eyes. “Now eat. I hope it’s good.”

“It smells great,” Max said, but he waited to pick up his spoon until Jonah had served Kinga and come back to the table with his own bowl to sit next to her and across from Max. “Thank you, Jonah.”

“You’re welcome.” Jonah watched expectantly as Max took a bite of the stew and his brows shot up.

“Oh, this is tasty.”

“Really?”

“Did you not taste it before you served it to me?” Max asked, amused.

“Of course I did, but you have a more, uh, refined palate than I do. I wasn’t sure you’d like it.”

“You did a good job.”

“I mean, I made it in the crockpot. It’s hard to do a bad job.”

“Take a compliment, would you?” Kinga snorted, rolling her eyes. “Just say ‘Thank you, Max,’ and move on.”

“Thank you, Max,” Jonah said obediently, and Kinga patted his thigh under the table.

“There you go. You know the two of you are going to have to learn to communicate better if you’re going to be involved with each other?”

“Oh, I think we understand each other,” Max said with a smile.

“Speak for yourself, I’m so far out of my depth right now,” Jonah said. “I have no idea what I’m doing, but I really hope it works out for the best anyways. You _blindsided_ me with that offer.”

“Good,” Max said. “That was at least part of my intention.”

“Only part?” Kinga asked with a laugh. 

“I wanted to surprise him and intrigue him,” Max said, and Jonah huffed.

“I’ve been intrigued.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Since I stopped being afraid of you, yes.”

“And when was that?” Max looked over the rims of his glasses at Jonah, who ducked his head slightly.

“When I started protecting you,” Jonah confessed, starting to blush. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Max said, a sound of intense satisfaction that made Kinga arch her brows in amusement.

“Gay,” she said. “Super gay.”

“Shut up and eat,” Jonah said weakly.

* * *

**Week 8 - Friday**

“Mazel tov, Doctor Mistress,” Max said with a laugh, leaning in to kiss Kinga’s cheek as she and Jonah walked into the restaurant she’d decided on for her celebratory dinner. “I knew you’d ace your dissertation defense.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t have been nearly so well prepared for it if you hadn’t given me two solid months to do nothing but get ready to do it,” she said.

“You still would have aced it,” Jonah said loyally, putting a hand on Max’s back as he came closer. “Hi.”

“Hello, Jonah.” Max beamed up at him, and Jonah offered him a smile.

“You’re in a good mood.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? I’ve had a great couple of weeks.”

“You’re still healing,” Kinga said, and Max shrugged.

“It doesn’t hurt that badly any more. I stopped taking the pain pills a few days ago. I didn’t want to get used to taking them.”

“Do you have an addictive personality?” Jonah asked.

“He’s self-indulgent,” Kinga said fondly, and Max pointed at her.

“You keep that from being possible because you're my favorite indulgence.”

“I keep that from being possible because I keep you locked up all the time,” she shot back with a smirk, and he conceded with a nod. “But I’m glad you had the self-possession not to mess around with those pills.”

“I have way too much to live for to throw my life away on an opiate addiction,” Max said dryly. “Now, anyways. Last week there was a question about it, but you answered that in a way I didn’t even think I could hope for.” 

Kinga beamed and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Yes, well, it seems like we’re all answering the questions for each other that we don’t dare to hope for.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Jonah said. “Come on, let’s get a table, I’m really hungry.”

They got seated promptly and then proceeded to wait for the waiter to even notice them, let alone take their orders. Kinga recounted the events of her dissertation defense almost in full before their drinks arrived at their table, gesturing around in an animated way that probably would have spelled doom had the drinks been there already. She made a happy sound at the first taste of her pineapple cider when they were finally served and insisted on making both Jonah and Max taste it too, to similar approval. That triggered Jonah to talk about growing up in Hawaii, which was fascinating new information to Max, so they passed the nearly thirty minutes it took their food to arrive without really being bothered by the wait, too enchanted with each others’ company to mind.

The waiter had a slightly panicked look in his eyes when he came back around with their food, finally, setting down Jonah’s burger, Kinga’s poke bowl, and Max’s flatbread pizza with a clatter of the plates that made himself jump. “Sorry about the wait, can I get you anything else?” he asked.

“Ketchup, please,” Jonah said.

“Could I get utensils?” Kinga asked, and the waiter’s eyes widened as he realized there were no utensils or napkins on the table at all. 

“Yes, of course, one moment…” He walked quickly away, leaving Kinga looking after him with her brows arched, but he came back only a moment later. "Enjoy your meal," he said as he dropped off the bottle of ketchup in front of Jonah and three sets of utensils in the middle of the table and rushed off to his next table. Jonah picked up the bottle and made a face.

"I can tell this is empty," he said, and gave it an experimental squeeze over his plate that produced a pathetic spatter of condiment with a farty sound. "Yeah, I thought so."

"Good luck getting another one," Kinga said dryly, watching the single waiter they'd seen working the decently busy restaurant bouncing from table to kitchen to table like a pinball. She picked up her fork and stirred her food, mixing up the rice with the veggies and fish that had been arranged atop it, before taking a bite. "Mm."

"Excuse me," Max said loudly, raising a hand as the waiter walked past him, and the man looked like he was going to burst into tears. "This ketchup is empty, could we get another, please?"

"Sure thing," the waiter said, snagging the empty bottle. "I'll go find another one for you." He raced off. Under the table, Jonah nudged his foot against Max's.

"Thank you."

"No problem," Max said. "I feel bad for this poor guy, why are they so understaffed on a Friday night?" He took a bite of his flatbread pizza and made a happy sound.

"God only knows," Kinga said. "Last time we came here there was only one waiter on, but that was a Wednesday, so the service wasn't as terrible as it is tonight."

"This one's pretty low too, I'll grab you a new one," the waiter said as he swung back around, set a ketchup bottle on the table, and walked hastily away. Jonah picked it up, closed his eyes with a sigh, and got the exact same result when he squeezed it.

"Is that one empty too?" Kinga laughed.

"I think he just walked away and then brought the same bottle back," Max said. Jonah laughed and put the bottle down.

"I think you're probably right. Well, I guess I'm just eating these fries plain..." He popped one in his mouth and shrugged. "Before they get too cold to be appealing." 

"You'll be fine," Kinga said. "No ketchup isn't the end of the world." She leaned over to steal a fry from his plate and nibble on it, and he belatedly smacked at her hand, missing by a wide margin.

"Don't swat at her like that," Max said.

"You might have to defer to her but I don't," Jonah shot back, and Kinga stole another fry while he was distracted. "Stop that! Eat your own food, dammit."

"But it tastes better when I steal it from you," she said brightly. 

"I don't consent to having my dinner scavenged," Jonah said.

Max snorted. "Well, it's not like you're paying for it," he pointed out. "And we _are_ here to celebrate her. So let her have the fries."

"Thank you, sweetness." Jonah aimed a half-hearted glare across the table that Max easily shrugged off when Kinga reached over to pat his hand. "So can I make a suggestion for how we spend the rest of the evening?"

"You can make the plans," Jonah said. "Max was right. Today's about you. Whatever you want is what we’ll do."

"Well, I think this plan will be mutually agreeable," Kinga said. "Since poor Max is still benched from active duty..."

"Put me in, coach," Max muttered.

"...I'm not going to risk damaging you, sweetness, or I would. Don't worry, I'm not going to forget about you."

“I’ll be _fine_.”

“Yes, you will, because you’re going to be watching us from the other side of the bed until _this_ exhibitionist gets his rocks off, at which point you will lick me clean until _I’m_ satisfied, and then I’ll pin you to the bed and make sure you don’t move around too much while I get _you_ off,” Kinga purred. Max’s jaw dropped and he covered his mouth with one hand as he took a shaky indrawn breath.

“Yes, _please_.”

“Oh,” Jonah said, cheeks flaring pink as he thought about it. “Well… yes. Okay. That, uh… that sounds like a plan.” Kinga smirked at him and reached for her cider.

“Finish your dinner,” she said mildly, and Jonah picked up his burger immediately. Max bit back a laugh and reached for another piece of pizza. “Good boys.”

* * *

**Week 9 - Monday**

“I wasn’t expecting this room to be so nice,” Max said as he came into Jonah’s game room.

“What were you expecting, something more like a teenage boy’s bedroom?” Jonah asked in amusement, walking over to the couch set across from the huge TV on the wall and flopping down onto it. Max looked around, taking in the framed B-movie posters on the walls, the well-organized game consoles and games arranged under the TV, and the general neatness of the room, before sitting down next to him.

“I was expecting more clutter.”

“Well, I cleaned up, knowing I was bringing you in here,” Jonah admitted, and Max laughed and leaned into Jonah’s side, cuddling up when Jonah put his arm around him. 

“You made an effort for me. That’s sweet.”

“Well, I do kinda want to impress you…” 

“I appreciate that, but you’ve already impressed me, Jonah.” 

“After five years of dating Kinga, I’ve learned better than to think I can rest on my laurels as far as impressing a romantic partner goes,” Jonah said dryly, and Max laughed again.

“I’m hardly as demanding as she is.”

“It’d be hard to be. No, you don’t need to be demanding for me to want to make you happy, you know. I definitely can’t be lazy right from the start, you deserve better.”

“Thank you,” Max said, leaning up to kiss Jonah sweetly. “I appreciate that.”

“I hope you will,” Jonah said. “Cause I had a plan for tonight.”

“Oh?”

“I may have leaned on Kinga for research purposes,” Jonah confessed, leaving the couch to retrieve two bottles from the mini fridge in one corner, pop the caps, and offer one to Max. “I may have asked her to snoop in your fridge to find out what you like to drink.”

“Espionage,” Max accused fondly, accepting the bottle and looking at the label. “Oh, good choice. I’m a sucker for Magic Hat.” 

“Good,” Jonah said, sitting back down on the couch and reaching for the remote to unpause the DVD he’d had waiting for them. “Excuse me for going the easy route with this movie, but you said you love it, and it’s been a long time since the last time I saw it,” he said, putting his arm back around Max.

“You never have to apologize for showing me Shaun of the Dead,” Max said, shifting to curl his legs up on the couch and settling in comfortably against Jonah. 

Halfway through the movie, the door opened and Kinga came in with a huge plastic bowl in her arms. “Are you nerds enjoying yourselves?” she asked, walking over to deposit the bowl full of popcorn on Jonah’s lap.

“Yes,” Max chirped. “Immensely.” She leaned over to kiss his forehead and then kissed Jonah’s too.

“Very much so,” Jonah said. 

“Good. I’m not staying, I just wanted to check on you.”

“And bring us a snack,” Max said. “Cause you love us.”

“And bring you a snack because I love you,” she agreed. “Enjoy your movie.” 

Jonah huffed a breath as she walked back out and closed the door behind her. “Wow, she must really want this to work out for us… she _never_ brings me popcorn when I’m down here alone.”

“Really?”

“She usually won’t even come in here.” Jonah popped a piece of popcorn in his mouth and whimpered. “Oh, man, she put _effort_ into this. Usually I’m the one who makes popcorn for us.”

“That was sweet of her,” Max said, and Jonah leaned against him.

“Well, apparently you bring out her sweet side by being sweet yourself.” Max beamed, and Jonah rubbed his scruffy cheek against Max’s curls fondly. “You make me feel pretty sweet, too.”

“I’m a good influence,” Max laughed. All Jonah could do was nod in agreement.

* * *

**Week 9 - Thursday**

“Come here, sweetness…” Kinga patted the couch next to her when Max came back with a glass of wine for her, setting it down on the side table so she could face him when he sat where indicated and cup his cheeks between her hands. “How are you feeling today?”

“I feel great,” Max said. “Practically all better.”

“And what did your doctor say about that?” She couldn’t keep the eagerness out of her voice. Max grinned at her.

“I’m cleared to return to all normal life activities as of today.”

“Oh, _excellent_.” She kissed him fiercely, one hand sliding into his hair, and he joyfully let her have her way with him, whimpering when she bit his lip. “You’re not going back to work tomorrow, are you?”

“God no. Starting on a Friday? I know I’m a masochist, but that would be indecently painful.” Kinga laughed, and Max added, “No, I’m planning on sleeping in tomorrow and relishing the last non-work work day of my not-really-a-vacation.”

“Oh, really…?” She tucked two fingers into the collar of his t-shirt and he glanced down and then back up into her eyes. “Would you mind my company overnight, then?”

“Am I officially allowed to cut into your time with Jonah, now?”

“You’re officially my partner now, sweetness. You have as much of a right to my time as he does, and I’d very much like to have at least one night a week in your bed.” Max lit up, sheer delight radiating out of him, and she couldn’t resist kissing him again. “It doesn’t have to be Thursday every week, but as I’m already here tonight…”

“I don’t mind it being Thursday every week,” Max said promptly. “We should probably figure this out with some input from Jonah, but at least right now, I’m perfectly fine with that.” 

“We’ll discuss it with him some other time,” Kinga said. “He knows I was planning on staying tonight. He told me to be gentle with you.”

“What if I don’t _want_ you to be gentle with me?” 

“Then I will give you what you want, sweetness.”


	6. Have Your Way With Me; Terms of Endearment and Other Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max wastes no time in coming back to that conversation he and Jonah put a pin in, to Jonah's shock and delight. The three of them sit down to dictate the terms of their relationship; the conversation is a minefield but they're determined to get through it even if a few bombs get blown along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, this is done. Or, well, I'm calling it done. Because if I don't call it done I'll keep writing it, and if I'm done with it I can count it in the WIPBigBangChallenge. Hi, folks from the challenge. Hope you like the smut. 
> 
> I managed to fit _three_ Kink Bingo lines into this fic, even though I started only aiming for the center one:  
> pegging/strap-ons | drugs/aphrodisiacs | wildcard | pictures | possession/marking  
> bites/bruises | service | wildcard | pain | medical kink  
> sex toys | torture/interrogation | possession/marking | negotiation | washing/cleaning
> 
> You can pretty much take your pick for the wildcards since I fit WAY more kinks than listed here into this fic.
> 
> Huge and eternal thanks to NightfireAdamante for her invaluable help making this fic the best version of itself it could be!

**Week 10 - Monday**

“Really?” Jonah said blankly. 

“Yes, really,” Max said, biting his lip expectantly when he sat back from murmuring his offer in Jonah’s ear, the noise of the crowded bar not nearly overwhelming his soft enticement.

“Just like that?” 

“I'm not going to be coy about it. You want it, I want to let you do it. When's the last time you got to?” 

“Uh… 2014.”

“Yes, I want to do this with you. We can let Kinga watch, if that'll do it for your exhibitionist tendencies.”

“You are _really_ easygoing about this.”

“Jonah, you're super hot, _please_ do kinky things with me. Is that what you want? For me to beg?” Max’s brows arched plaintively.

“Uh… I wasn't going for that but I'm not going to pretend it wasn't music to my ears.”

“Now you care what I think about you,” Max said. “Right? That's what I think. You're highly attractive in both form and personality. So even if some of your kinks aren't my thing, I have no problem with offering to do them with you. I like you and I want to please you. Even without any of the power play stuff involved.”

“I couldn't be your Dom,” Jonah said. “Kinga would get competitive. And you're kind of knocking me for a loop here.”

“Why are you so surprised? I said we would put a pin in it.”

“I thought you meant to talk about it, not to just say ‘hey, you up for it?’” 

“Does that mean you don't want to? I told Kinga I was taking you out tonight. We can go watch a movie or something if you're not up for it.” There was nothing mocking in Max's tone, but Jonah blushed like he was being teased. 

“Well, no, of course I want to!” 

“Then why are you arguing?” 

“I'm not _arguing_ , I'm _recalibrating._ ”

“Let me see if I can help with that,” Max said, and pulled Jonah down with a finger in his collar until he was in range for a kiss and then caught his mouth with a filthy slide of tongues and a click of their glasses. Jonah gasped and leaned into Max.

“You're _dirty_ ,” he said with delight. 

“I've been doing chastity play with Kinga for two years. I've learned to be expressive in other ways.”

“Do I get to unlock you?” 

Max pulled the key out of his breast pocket. “She said to have fun.” Jonah’s eyes lit up, and he reached for the chain and wrapped it around his fingers.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Jonah asked, and Max grinned and threw a bill on the bar. 

“Thought you'd never ask.”

Kinga looked up from where she was sprawled on the couch when Jonah lead Max into their home, one brow arched. “I thought you were taking him out,” she said to Max, who smirked.

“I did! And we're back. Your presence as an audience is requested,” he said cheerfully, and Kinga shoved a bookmark into her book and dropped it on the side table immediately.

“And what am I meant to be observing?” Her tone of voice was at odds with the urgency of her actions.

“All the things you refuse to do with me,” Jonah said. Her brows arched, and she leaned back and folded her arms.

“I don’t know why you would think I’d want to watch it if I won’t do it,” she said diffidently. Max rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry, are you telling us you’re _not_ interested in watching me get used by your gorgeous boyfriend?”

“I don’t like to share.”

“We’re both yours,” Jonah pointed out. “Who are you more offended by sharing?” Kinga’s lip curled in a sneer, but she didn’t answer. After a second, Jonah shrugged. “You don’t have to watch. That’s just to increase my pleasure. If you don’t want me to have that…”

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped. “Of _course_ I’ll watch. Go on, I’ll be along in a minute.” 

Max tipped his head back to smile up at Jonah. “Come on… I’ve been looking forward to getting to handle your amazing body instead of just watching you across the room.” He hooked a finger in the collar of Jonah’s t-shirt and pulled him into the bathroom without looking back to catch the eager expression on Jonah’s face as he came along willingly. “Am I the only one of us who’s been daydreaming about this?”

“Define _this_ ,” Jonah said as Max guided him around until his back was to the glass doors of the bathtub.

“Getting you naked, first and foremost,” Max said, sliding his hands up Jonah’s sides underneath his t-shirt. Jonah pulled it over his head and dropped it carelessly, and Max lit up at the sight of his tattoos. “I’ve wanted to get a closer look at these.”

“I, uh…” Jonah was much more careful about sliding Max’s suit jacket off his shoulders and leaving it draped across the counter by the sink. “I may have been thinking about undressing you, yes.”

“...and…?” Max looked up expectantly as Jonah undid the buttons of his shirt.

“And getting you on your knees for me,” Jonah added, and Max smiled as he shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it over his jacket. 

“Are you being coy or just shy about talking about your desires?” 

“I’m not good at dirty talk,” Jonah said, cheeks going pink.

“Oh, you’re adorable,” Max said. “Come on, if Kinga can make me ask for what I want then I’m going to make you ask for what you want.”

“That’s not fair,” Jonah said, but he stopped complaining when Max’s fingers went to the fly of his jeans. 

“Communication is important,” Max chided him, “and honestly, it’s exciting to be told what you want to happen. Just because you told me what your kinks are doesn’t mean I know how you want them to be realized.”

“You're sure this is okay for you to do?” Jonah asked, fingers grazing one of the small bright pink scars marking Max's stomach. 

“What's okay?” Max retorted. “Come on, Jonah. Ask me for what you want so I can give it to you.”

“Is it really okay for me to give you a golden shower and then stuff my dick down your throat?” Jonah said in a rush. 

“As long as there's a normal shower between them, yes, that's really okay,” Max said, and he tugged Jonah's jeans down his hips and then gasped when his cock bounced up against his stomach. “You're so perfectly proportioned.”

“Thank you,” Jonah said, stepping out of his jeans and going down on one knee to get Max out of his own pants. They both blinked when that put them nearly eye to eye, and then Max smiled and cupped Jonah's scruffy cheeks to give him an easy kiss. 

“Perfect,” Max breathed. Jonah smiled as he pulled Max’s pants down to his ankles and dug the key out of his own jeans pocket from the pile of clothes on the floor. Max bit his lip and watched Jonah unlock the cage and then hold the device up to look at it.

“You _let_ her keep you in this thing?” Jonah asked skeptically.

“I _asked_ her to keep me in this thing,” Max said. 

“It looks cruel and unusual,” Jonah said, and Max snorted.

“Well, for someone with your endowment, it probably _would_ be cruel and unusual. But it’s served its purpose pretty well for the past couple of years for me.”

“If you say so,” Jonah said, setting the cage aside to wrap his hand around Max’s cock instead. Max whimpered and fought to remain still.

“Your hands are so big, I know all of you is big but oh, your hands on me…” The dreamy tone of Max’s voice got Jonah to look up and meet his eyes, which were half-lidded with pleasure. “You’re a gentle giant.”

“Don’t tell me you have a size kink,” Jonah said with a laugh, and Max smiled.

“Okay, I won’t tell you.” He cupped Jonah’s scruffy cheeks in both hands again and added, “but, like, come _on_ , how couldn’t I,” before kissing him.

“You have ulterior motives,” Jonah accused, and Max dissolved into laughter.

“I feel like I’ve been completely transparent about my motives this entire time. Given that my motive is to please you and have fun doing it. And you _did_ try to intimidate me with your size like, fifteen minutes after we met. What did you think was going to happen? Scared and horny are divided by a very thin line.”

“I wasn’t trying to intimidate you!” 

“Maybe not consciously, but that was entirely what you were doing.”

“You weren’t intimidated anyways,” Jonah said.

“No. That’s something I got from submitting to Kinga. I’m not as easy to intimidate any more. And I know exactly when the difference between us became a turn-on…” 

“Two songs into the opening set?” 

“Oh, please don’t tell me I was that obvious.” Jonah’s eyes widened and Max blinked. “Oh.”

“That was a very confusing mosh pit,” Jonah said weakly.

“It really was,” Max agreed, and tugged on Jonah's hands. “Come on, stand up, let's do this.” He set his glasses on the counter and slid open the door of the tub. 

“Okay,” Jonah said, and blinked a couple of times before turning to follow with a look of wonder. 

Max squinted up at Jonah from his knees from inside the bathtub, trying not to let his gaze get stuck on the very enticing sight of long fingers wrapped around a substantial cock. “Gosh, you look endless from down here.”

“Sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for? You're magnificent.” Blurry at a distance, Max could still make out the flush that rose on Jonah's cheeks. “So… Can we do this without humiliating me, or is that built in?”

“I was planning on praising you profusely, actually.”

“Really?” Max brightened. “Okay. Have your way with me, then.” Jonah cupped Max's cheek and stroked his fingers up into silver curls, gently pulling his hair until he faced down. “Will you wash me afterwards?” 

“I know which shower gel I'm going to steal to use on you already.”

“Is it one of the ones I got Kinga? Other brands aren't great on my skin.”

“Yes,” Jonah said, and hesitated. 

“Get on with it already,” Kinga drawled, watching from where she’d snuck in to lean on the door of the bathroom. “Stop stalling.” Jonah startled and shot a glance back at her, blushing harder at being taunted.

“Don’t rush him,” Max said, but he glanced up expectantly, adding, “But, you know, whenever you’re ready…”

“Close your eyes,” Jonah said, and Max smiled and did as he was told, bowing his head in a perfectly submissive pose that sent Kinga’s eyes half-lidded with memories of him being on his knees so sweetly for her. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

“You sure?”

“ _Jonah._ How many times do I need to give you my consent before you piss on me already?” There was a laugh in Max’s voice, and Kinga snorted loudly. 

“I mean, if you’re going to _demand_ I do it…” Jonah thought his hesitation wasn’t unwarranted after having his kinks dismissed for so long; it wasn’t like he was used to getting what he wanted, or used to the constant affirmation of consent that was the skeleton underlying everything Kinga and Max did together. “Thank you,” he added softly, took aim, and started to relieve himself. 

Max flinched at the first splash, not out of disgust but startlement, and turned his head slightly to protect his face. His silver curls darkened and flattened as they got wet, clinging to his head.

“Oh, fuck,” Jonah said, sounding surprised. “I’d forgotten how _possessive_ this is…” Max’s hand flew up to his mouth and he giggled, shoulders shivering with laughter. “ _Fuck_ ,” Jonah said again, helplessly.

“You fucking amateur,” Kinga sighed, pretending she wasn’t watching this scene unfold with rapt focus.

“But he looks so good like this… like he’s mine.” The wordless sound of agreement Max made sent a shiver through Jonah that only intensified as he reached the end of his capacity, and Jonah whimpered as he shook his cock off and reached down to thread his fingers through Max’s soaked hair, turning his face up. “Are you?” he asked intently.

“Yours?” Max asked, reaching up to wipe his eyes before blinking them open to find Jonah panting like he’d been fucking Max into the mattress instead of simply standing over him. Jonah nodded. “Yes. I am,” he said simply, settling one hand on Jonah’s hip. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind cleaning me off a bit… that was all right, but I’m really looking forward to the part of the evening where I get to choke on that marvelous cock of yours, and I’d prefer to do that with something soft under my knees.” 

The sound Jonah made was half arousal, half shock, and he pulled Max to his feet and leaned down to kiss him hard before climbing into the tub with him. “Let me take care of you, then,” he breathed, reaching up to turn the showerhead away from them and around Max to turn the shower on, waiting for the water to heat up before he centered the spray on Max. 

“Don’t forget what he wants to hear,” Kinga said lazily, but both men could decipher the purr in her voice as pleasure. 

“You are _such_ a good boy,” Jonah said immediately, and Max hummed and swayed into him as Jonah dug both hands into his hair and scratched his scalp gently as he rinsed him thoroughly. “So fucking good for me. Thank you… sweetness.” Max’s eyes flew open, startled and pleased by the endearment coming from him, to find Jonah with his lip between his teeth.

“You can call me that,” Max said softly, and Kinga clicked her tongue.

“I don’t like that,” she said. “That’s what _I_ call him.”

“But he’s being sweet for me, too,” Jonah argued, reaching for the shampoo and lathering Max’s curls with honey-scented suds. 

“I think I should get to decide what I like to be called,” Max said, closing his eyes and tipping his head back into Jonah’s hands, “and that _is_ one of my favorite things to be called.”

“It feels like a challenge to me,” Kinga said grumpily. 

“Yeah, well, I was about a millisecond away from calling him ‘Sir’ a minute ago, so maybe figuring out what we call each other is something we need to negotiate,” Max said with a laugh. Kinga huffed with annoyance.

“I’m _not_ ceding control of you.”

“I will steal his key right off your neck,” Jonah said, and Kinga’s jaw dropped. Max's knees went weak and he swayed into Jonah with both hands against his chest. 

“How _dare_ you?”

“Uh-oh,” Max said. “Yeah, I think we have a _few_ things to negotiate.”

“I'm not getting off with him unless I can return the favor,” Jonah said. “And I am not allowing you to schedule my sex life.”

“You can _ask_ ,” Kinga snarled. “You can't _snatch_ him from me.”

“I'm, uh… I’m going to motion that I should be let out of chastity,” Max said hopefully. “It's served its purpose to modify my behavior. Right? And it's not like I'll be backsliding into bad habits if I'm being kept busy.”

“I disagree,” Kinga said. “My pleasure is one of the purposes of keeping you locked up.”

“Then copy the key and you both can wear it,” Max said. “I'd like that, actually. Shared possession.” 

“Is it even still chastity play if I'm unlocking him every other day?” Jonah asked. 

“You're the voracious type, huh?” Max said. “Awesome.”

“You're making big plans considering this is just foreplay,” Kinga pointed out. Jonah picked up a bath pouf, drizzled bright green shower gel onto it, and got it foamy while glaring at her, and then focused on Max and the delighted look he aimed up as Jonah's hands caressed him. 

“Please have a power struggle over me,” Max whispered, and Jonah smirked. “That would be… ohh.”

“There's pretty much zero chance that I'm not going to want to do this again,” Jonah said, not looking at Kinga but clearly addressing her. “And if you keep all your nights with him and all your nights with me I only get one night a week with him. And that's not going to be enough.”

“Would you prefer sequential days or spread out?” 

“Uh…” Jonah looked down at Max, who blinked up at him for a moment before speaking up. 

“I can spend Monday with Jonah, Tuesday with both of you, Wednesday with Jonah, and Thursday and Sunday with Kinga? So you can keep your Fridays and Saturdays together.” 

“I'd like to do something together on a weekend day,” Jonah said. 

“I'd like to do something together whenever we all feel like it regardless of day,” Max said. “I'm happy to spend time with both of you.”

“That's acceptable to me,” Kinga said. “I like turning Tuesdays into us time. It's just formalizing what we've been doing already.” She lifted one shoulder in an overly-casual shrug. “Fine. Now are you going to spend all night in the shower, or are you getting on with this? I swear you’re too scared to get what you really want, Jonah.”

“I’m not _scared_ ,” Jonah said, and Max reached up to touch his scruffy cheek and redirect his attention. 

“I’m ready if you are. And believe me, I _want_ this. I want to give this to you. You don’t have to ask if I’m sure. I am sure. I want you to grab me by the hair and take your satisfaction from me.” Jonah whimpered and leaned down to kiss Max roughly, reaching blindly around him to turn off the shower.

“Come on, dorks,” Kinga said, standing next to the tub with a towel stretched between her hands to wrap it around Max as he stepped onto the tile floor. She leaned in to murmur into his ear, “You look so fucking hot when you’re giving him what he wants,” and Max shivered and moved over to allow Jonah to emerge from the tub and be wrapped up in turn. “Don’t hurt him too much,” she addressed her boyfriend in a lazy tone.

“I don’t want to hurt him at all,” Jonah said, toweling off briskly, starting with his hair and working his way down until he was bent over drying his endless legs and both Kinga and Max stared at his ass with matching wordless sounds of admiration. 

“You are so beautifully put together,” Max said as Jonah straightened up. “Just so nice to look at.”

“I’m nice to touch, too,” Jonah said hopefully as he tossed his towel over the shower door and pulled Max’s from around his body to start drying him too, scrubbing the towel over his hair until it had regained its fluffiness. Max put his hands on Jonah’s hips and stared up at him with admiration as Jonah carefully patted him dry, hands lingering on Max's ass. “And so are you, mm.”

“You're both very nice to touch,” Kinga confirmed, indulging herself with a grope of each of them before heading into the bedroom ahead of them. She lost most of her clothes before they followed her in, settling herself in mismatched but cute underwear cross-legged at the foot of the bed with a pillow in her hands. “Something to kneel on,” she said, offering it to Max with a smile. 

“Thank you, Mistress,” he said, and Jonah gave him a gentle tug on his hair. 

“Don't call her that when you're with me,” he said, a little bit petty. Kinga hissed in response, and Max sighed. 

“She's still my Mistress even if I'm not currently under her orders,” Max said. “But if there's something you would like me to call _you_ , I'm open to suggestions.”

“I don’t know what we could get away with that she wouldn’t object to,” Jonah snarked, and Kinga rolled her eyes. “I’m still not into the whole Dom/sub thing, anyways. I’m not… not inherently thinking I’m more powerful than you in this whole… interaction. You’re giving me what I want, that’s a power move.”

“Just call him _you punk_ ,” Kinga suggested. “It has the benefit of being accurate.”

“We’re both punks,” Max said, wrinkling his nose at her. “And I know how you mean it, and that’s not how I’d mean it.” He hugged the pillow to his chest and looked up at Jonah. “Being submissive doesn’t mean I’m ceding power anyways. I always have the option to pull the plug if I want to. I’m the one who decides whether a scene continues. It’s not like you can get me to do anything I genuinely don’t want to do.” Jonah bit his lip uncertainly. “I’d really like it if you let me call you Sir,” Max added beseechingly.

“Oh… well, if you _want_ to,” Jonah said. “That’s… yeah. Go ahead. You can call me that.” 

“Thank you, Sir,” Max chirped, and Jonah shivered. Kinga rolled her eyes but didn’t protest. “Now can I _please_ suck your cock? I’ve only been thinking about it since about five seconds after you told me you like being deepthroated.”

“ _Really_?” 

“I didn’t have a realistic idea of what that would entail, admittedly,” Max said, “but I’m not about to shrink from a challenge. All I can give you is my best, and I intend to.”

“You are _astonishing,_ ” Jonah said, and Max laughed. “Yes, please, by all means, I would love to have you get on your knees for me.” Max tossed the pillow onto the floor in front of Jonah and knelt on it, then looked up at him with a wrinkled nose.

“You’re too tall for this to work easily as we are… can you sit down?” 

“Of course.” Jonah sat on the edge of the bed and Max pushed his long legs apart to get situated between them, Wrapping his fingers around Jonah, Max made a happy sound and smiled up at him.

“Okay. Feel free to grab my hair or move your hips or whatever will make this better for you, don’t worry about me, okay? I know this is going to be messy and not cute and I’m fine with it. If I want to stop, I’ll stop. If I don’t stop, it’s because I want to keep going.”

“If you say so,” Jonah said, combing his fingers through Max’s curls as Max bowed his head to take Jonah’s tip between his lips.

“Don’t worry if you make him cry,” Kinga said, shifting closer to the end of the bed to get a better vantage point. “He likes being pushed to his limits.” Max hummed in agreement as he slowly slid his mouth down around Jonah, testing where his boundaries existed before he could try to work past them. 

“I don’t want to make him cry,” Jonah said breathlessly, and she rolled her eyes.

“You are so fucking unrealistic about your own kinks. Hate to break it to you, honey, but you’re just too hung to get what you want without making your partner pretty uncomfortable.” Max put both hands on Jonah’s hips and lifted his head to give them both a look.

“I _said_ I’m fine with it,” he said, a little annoyed. “Stop worrying about me and _use me already_.” Jonah gasped to hear him put it so blatantly but tightened his fingers in Max’s hair to pull him back down onto his cock.

“Told you so,” Kinga said, and Jonah couldn’t maintain the sneer he aimed at her while he was shivering with the pleasure. “You know, sweetness, naked and on your knees is one of your best looks.” 

“Don’t distract him,” Jonah said. “But also… _true_. You look super, super hot, Max.” Max squeezed Jonah’s hip in acknowledgment of the compliment and bobbed his head until he gagged around Jonah’s length. “Oh, fuck, _just_ like that, baby,” Jonah breathed, letting his fingers go slack in Max’s hair in case he wanted to retreat. 

Max didn’t retreat, or not far and not for long, anyways, backing off to take a breath before eagerly choking himself again on Jonah’s cock. His face turned red almost instantly, and his nails dug into Jonah’s hips, not to hold him back, just to anchor Max to something real beyond as much of Jonah as he could fit in his greedy mouth.

“You little cock whore,” Kinga said fondly, and Jonah cupped Max’s cheek.

“Don’t listen to her, you’re _amazing_ , please don’t stop.” He brushed away the tears spilling out of Max’s closed eyes and whimpered as Max took him a little deeper. “Oh, _fuck_ , you’re so good, so so good for me.” Max wrapped his hand around Jonah’s wrist and moved his hand back to his hair, and Jonah took the hint finally, gripping Max’s curls and moving his head for him. Max hummed approvingly as Jonah pulled him back to breathe and then back down until he gagged, and the sound rung through Jonah and trembled him like a bell being struck until Max’s throat closing around him yanked him past the point of no return. “Fuck, fuck, _Max_ …” 

Max sat back slightly so he could actually swallow Jonah’s load instead of choking on it, dark eyes watery as he looked up to catch the dumbstruck expression of bliss on Jonah’s face. He looked like a total mess as he let Jonah slip out of his mouth and panted to catch his breath. Jonah released Max’s hair to cup his cheek again. “How was that, Sir?” Max asked in what was meant to be a perky chirp and came out as a throaty purr.

“You're a treasure,” Jonah gasped. 

“No, I'm a gift, and I'm giving myself to you.” Max wiped the tears off his flushed cheeks and smiled up at Jonah. “I know you'll take care of me. You’ve proven that already.” Jonah ran his thumb under Max’s lips to wipe off the spit and semen running down his chin, and Max caught his thumb in his mouth and sucked it clean with a distinctly self-satisfied look in his eyes.

“What can I do to take care of you right now?” Jonah asked. 

“You’re not going to have to do much of anything,” Max admitted, putting his hands on Jonah’s knees as he got to his feet. “That was intensely gratifying to do for you.”

“I thought I was going to be jealous watching the two of you together, but that was too hot for me to get moody about it,” Kinga said. “I think you’re prettier when you cry from a beating than from that, but god, you look good when you’re taken to your limits.” She moved over to make room on the bed for Max to fit between her and Jonah, and Max whimpered when he found himself flanked by them both watching him avidly, a big hand spread over his left thigh and a petite one inflicting its nails on the top of his right one.

“I need to be kissed and touched and I’m not picky about who does either one of them,” Max said hopefully. Jonah shot a warning look at Kinga before he moved to do both himself, long fingers wrapping around Max’s cock as he leaned down to catch his lips and groaned at the taste of himself on Max’s tongue. Max fell back against the bed, catching himself on his elbows and arching his neck to kiss Jonah back. “Ohh,” he sighed against Jonah’s lips.

“I’m surprised that going along with my wants got you this worked up,” Jonah admitted, slowly stroking Max, who giggled.

“Well… ooh, yes, do that with your thumb… service _is_ one of my kinks. And the sounds you made while you got what you wanted from me were _very_ satisfying to me. And, mm, I’m hoping that giving you what you want will mean you’ll give me what _I_ want from you, because I have a wish list.”

“A wish list, huh? How much of this wish list has to do with your size kink?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is— ooh. Is it an imposition for me to— to want to be wrapped up in your ridiculously long limbs?” Max aimed the closest thing to a sardonic look he could manage at Jonah considering he was rapidly approaching release. Jonah snorted and kissed him again, not letting up until Max fell the rest of the way back against the bed with a yelp as he spilled over Jonah’s fingers.

“No, dear, that’s fine,” Jonah said with a laugh in his voice, giving Max a couple more careful strokes before lifting his messy hand up to inspect it.

“Lick it clean,” Kinga said, and Jonah narrowed his eyes at her.

“Don’t do it for her… do it for _me_ ,” Max breathed. Jonah’s eyes didn’t widen as he shifted focus, but he looked a little less suspicious as he put one finger in his mouth and sucked it clean. “ _Ohh_.” That got Jonah’s eyes to widen, the sound of pure gratification slipping out of Max a much better inspiration than an order Jonah didn’t want to take, and he licked the back of his hand clean next. “Fuck, Jonah, that’s so hot.”

“I suppose the show is over now,” Kinga said, moving to get up from the bed. Jonah grabbed her wrist before she could stand, and she looked at him with a brow arched.

“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate your attention.”

“I bet you do,” she said. Max moved one leg over to press against hers, and she looked down at him.

“Want a hand with anything?” 

“Nope. I’m going to go take a shower. Jonah, don’t forget to cuddle him, Max loves aftercare a lot.” She patted Max’s leg, stood up, moved to kiss Jonah’s forehead, and made her exit. Jonah looked at Max and nodded toward the head of the bed.

“Scooch up and let’s snuggle for a bit.”

“Yes, Sir.”

* * *

**Week 10 - Tuesday**

“Is this neutral enough ground?” Max asked with a laugh in his voice, looking back and forth at Kinga and Jonah sat on opposite sides of his breakfast nook. “I know home turf gives me the advantage, but I think the two of you will be more likely to play fair here.” He twirled a pen between his fingers over the open notebook in front of him, ready to start taking notes on their negotiations. 

“This is fine,” Jonah said, hands folded together on the table in front of him. “As long as you don’t start playing favorites.”

“I’m okay with you playing favorites, because I know I’m your favorite,” Kinga said with a smirk, wrapping a lock of copper hair around her finger only to unwind it again.

“Oh, like I don’t need to worry about you both playing favorites either?” Max said with a brow arched. “Let’s just… be as fair as we can be with each other, okay?” 

“I’ll be very fair,” Kinga said.

“ _Right_.” Jonah sounded skeptical. “So, uh, where do we begin with this? I haven’t really gone through… formal negotiations like this before.”

“You and Kinga never discussed your relationship?” Max asked.

“Not like _this_. With… dynamics and pet names I’m not allowed to use and ones I’m _assigned_ to use—”

“Nobody’s going to assign your pet names,” Kinga said, rolling her eyes. “You can call him whatever you want, as long as it’s not sweetness.”

“Well, I was thinking…” Jonah reached out hopefully and Max linked their pointer fingers. “Would it be okay if I called you my precious?”

“Not just a meme lord after all,” Max said, beaming widely. “Yeah. I’m okay with that.”

“You are _gigantic fucking dorks_ ,” Kinga said. “Like embarrassingly dorky.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Max said. “We’re speaking each other’s language now. And hearing him call me that is going to make me shiver, it’s the perfect amount of possessive and adoring.” He wrote that into the notebook in handwriting so neat it looked like a font. 

“As long as you don’t start calling him the Dark Lord or whatever.”

“That doesn’t suit him at all,” Max said dismissively. “No, I was mulling this over, trying to figure out something that wasn’t explicitly linked to power dynamics, and I think I got something.” 

“Lay it on me,” Jonah said, 

“It’s a little silly—” Max went slightly pink.

“As if calling you my precious isn’t kinda silly?”

“Well, it’s touching as well as silly!” 

“Spit it out, you fucking goofball,” Kinga said. 

“Can I call you Captain?” 

“ _Yes_ ,” Jonah said immediately, as Kinga burst into laughter. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“A designation of rank isn’t inherently a power thing?” Kinga asked, and Max wobbled one hand in the air back and forth. 

“People with ranks address each other by them regardless of their relative hierarchy,” Max said. “Calling him Captain says nothing about where I stand relative to him. And it still allows me to call him Sir.” Kinga scoffed but didn’t say anything. 

“I like it,” Jonah said. “It’s respectful without being deferential.”

“Exactly. I know you said you’re not interested in ordering me around—”

“I don’t remember saying that,” Jonah interrupted, and Max gave him an amused look. 

“Pardon me for putting words in your mouth, then. _Are_ you interested in ordering me around?”

“I seem to recall you saying you wouldn’t let me,” Jonah said. “Something about, I make suggestions, she issues commands?”

“No offense, but you were too shy to tell me what you wanted, let alone order me to do it, last night,” Max said. “And I believe that was said before I got enthusiastic about fulfilling your fantasies. If you’d like to order me around, go for it.”

“Ugh,” Kinga said, and both men looked over at her. “No, excuse me, I’m sorry, I just don’t want to cede any of my power to someone as lukewarm about taking it as Jonah is.”

“Lukewarm?” Jonah asked, fully offended. “Are you saying I lack passion?”

“I’m calling you a novice more than anything.”

“Yeah, well, I sure wasn’t going to get any practice trying to tell _you_ what to do.”

“That’s a very valid point,” Max said. “Honestly, I don’t mind if he’s a newbie; as long as he’s open to suggestion it’s not like he can’t be taught how to be dominant.”

“I don’t need to be _taught_ how to be dominant!” Jonah protested.

“Ehhhh….” Kinga didn’t look convinced. “Maybe not from the ground up, but you definitely could use a lot of fine-tuning.”

“I don’t know how many times I need to repeat myself, but _I don’t mind_ ,” Max said. “I’m patient and I’m not dumb enough to follow harmful orders or let myself be abused. I’m totally okay with keeping the training wheels on for a while.”

“You are _really_ not making me feel better about it using phrases like that,” Jonah said, more than a little sulky. Max put down his pen and reached for Jonah’s hands to capture his attention.

“Jonah. Do me a favor and tell me if this is a thing you want to do, or if you’re just arguing for argument’s sake. Because if you just want to argue, I’m going to stop trying to convince you that I’ll work with you on it. Let me know if I can save my breath.”

“No, I— sorry,” Jonah said, squeezing Max’s hands back. “My bad. I’m not trying to be argumentative. I just don’t like being belittled, and using the phrase ‘training wheels’ really gets under my skin. If you actually want to let me boss you around, I want to learn how to do it well and not be a douchelord who thinks he knows how to do domination because he read half of a Fifty Shades book once.”

“Thank you,” Max said. “I’m sorry I inadvertently used a demeaning term. Every Dom starts as a newbie, that’s all I meant by it. I didn’t mean to belittle you, and I never will. I want to make you happy— I want to make you _both_ happy.”

“Gay,” Kinga said. “All right then, you two can figure out your relative ranks or whatever, as long as it doesn’t affect my standing in Max’s eyes.”

“But not my eyes,” Jonah said, one brow arched, and she eyed him up and down.

“You could use some tweaking in how you relate to me.”

“I’m not your submissive and I’m never going to be,” Jonah said immediately. 

“No, that’s what _I’m_ here for,” Max said. “God, how long have the two of you been together and you never really talked about this directly? That’s so maladaptive.”

“It worked well enough for this long,” Kinga said, and Max snorted.

“Yeah, well, I’m coming in to shake that up a bit. I don’t mind ceding control to both of you, but between you, you need to figure some shit out. I’m not a toy for you to fight over, and I’m not going to stand by quietly if all you’re going to do is bicker, whether over me or not.”

“Why should we have talked about it when I wasn’t into it?” Jonah asked. “I didn’t want anything to do with this dynamic stuff.”

“I’m sorry, am I dragging you into it?” Max asked only a little sarcastically. “You’re running really hot and cold about this. Do you need time to think it over? Nobody’s _making_ you order me around. You don’t have to. If you want this to be dynamic-free, say the word so I can write it down.”

“I said I _didn’t_ ,” Jonah said. “Not I _don’t_. I’m fine with it with _you_ , you’re not trying to— to _subjugate_ me.”

“I can’t even object to the word because it’s technically exactly what I want to do,” Kinga said. “Of _course_ I want to bring you under my control, but I know you’ll never have it. And, you know, I was fine with not having that from you because I was getting to do it with other people. And I still am getting it from someone who’s not you. So quit whining, you baby, I’m not going to force you to bow to me or whatever your panicked male fantasy of a woman being in charge is making you worry I’m going to do.”

“That’s _so_ reassuring,” Jonah said. Max rolled his eyes and waved a hand to break their combative stare.

“Are you really in love? Because you fight a _lot_ and I hardly ever hear you say affectionate things to each other.”

“That’s just how we are with each other,” Kinga said. “The first thing I did when we met was yell at him for spilling a drink on me, and we just kind of… flirt by bickering still.”

“Yes, I really love her,” Jonah said. “But I also know what she’s like, and she should not be in charge of a pet let alone a relationship.”

“Ouch,” Kinga said, “you're one to talk, you jerk, you--”

“Albatross,” Max said flatly, and Kinga left her mouth half open when she stopped mid-insult at the sound of their safe word. Jonah blinked at Max's tone and held his tongue. “I literally just said I'm not going to sit here and watch you bicker. I don't care if that's your flirtation style. We're here for a reason and neither of you is taking this seriously.” Max took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You don't know how she can be because you immediately give her whatever she wants from you,” Jonah said. “For some reason you strike me as too good a sub to ever bicker with her.”

“That's not the type of sub I am, but _you_ could easily be a brat,” Max said. Kinga sucked in a sharp breath, and Jonah looked over at her with both brows arched. 

“What? It's a compelling thought,” she said in self defense. “I definitely think about spanking him on a weekly basis.”

“Keep your sadistic urges focused on the guy who appreciates them, please,” Max said, replacing his glasses and picking the pen back up. “Can we get back on task? All I have so far are my terms of endearment for the both of you and Jonah's for me.”

“You already know what I call you,” Kinga said. 

“And what do you and Jonah call each other?” Max asked. Kinga and Jonah looked at each other for a moment. 

“I call her beautiful,” Jonah offered. “You know… ‘hello, beautiful, how was your day?’” 

“Stressful,” Kinga said. “My day is stressful. You're stressing me out, sunshine.”

“Not helpful, Kinga.” Max tapped the point of the pen in the margin of the page. “And while we're on terms… I know you call each other boyfriend and girlfriend, but that's a bit juvenile for me. I prefer partner as a reference term both for me and used by me.”

“Partner is nice,” Jonah said. “And gender neutral.”

“Are you bi or did I just make you an offer you couldn't refuse?” Max asked. Jonah studied him and smiled. 

“Theoretically bi became practically bi because of you,” Jonah said. 

“Aww,” Max said. “Apparently I’m moving you from theory into practice in a couple of ways.”

“You hope,” Kinga snorted. “Okay, _partner_ , that’s very buddy cop of you but I’m fine with it.”

“Fine. Moving on… boundaries and hard limits?” Max pulled three pages from the back of his notebook and handed two to Jonah and Kinga. “I printed off a reference list to help us not forget any of the major things we don't want or do want.” He'd already marked his list with colored highlighters, and Jonah leaned over to look at it with wide eyes.

“That’s a lot of green,” he said. Max shrugged.

“I have a broad variety of interests.”

“Do you still have those highlighters?” Kinga asked, and Max got up and left the table to fetch them, leaving Kinga and Jonah looking at each other from opposite sides. Jonah offered his hand across the table, and Kinga took it, curling her fingers around his.

“You’re not being very nice,” Jonah said softly. “You said you’d be nice.”

“I never said I would be nice, I said I would be _fair_ ,” Kinga said. “And I don’t think it’s fair for me to lose control when you aren’t sure you want to take it.”

“I _am_ sure,” Jonah said. She rolled her eyes. “It’s really _un_ fair of you to act like I can’t or shouldn’t or don’t deserve to get to explore this if I’m curious about it.”

“Oh, _fine_ ,” she sighed. “Fine. Sure. Go ahead and order _my_ sub around.”

“ _Our_ sub… he said he liked the idea of shared possession.” Max came back in the middle of Jonah’s sentence and offered a handful of highlighters to the both of them.

“Are we talking about me?” 

“You’re a hot topic,” Jonah said, reaching for a pink highlighter to start marking off the stuff he didn’t want to do. “After all, you sort of are the center of this debate.”

“Negotiations shouldn’t be a debate,” Max said. “We’re not trying to convince each other around to anything. We’re just making our wants known. I’m not attempting to get either of you to change your positions, only to figure out what your positions are in the first place.”

“That’s nice in theory, but when our positions counter each other, something’s got to give,” Kinga said, making small green marks instead of highlighting entire words. “This is a pretty good list, sweetness. You did a good job assembling it.”

“I can’t take all the credit; I found it online,” Max said. “Do we want to go through these lists verbally, or just want me to collate them into a spreadsheet for ease of reference?”

“Nerd,” Kinga said. “Useful nerd, good idea, but _nerd_.”

“I don’t think I should be let off the hook about talking things out,” Jonah said. “Since that seems to be part of the point of this exercise. Talking out my needs and wants.”

“Well, yes, I meant more along the lines of, should we go point by point, or should we just discuss the important-to-us or conflicting points,” Max said. “I’m okay with just talking about the big stuff, but part of the big stuff is the two of you figuring out how you relate to each other.”

“I don’t see why that has to change,” Jonah said, a bit sullenly. “I’d rather keep dynamics out of that side of the relationship. She won’t submit to me, I won’t submit to her, we can just keep handling each other like we have been, agreeing on things together or not doing them.”

“That would be fine if we weren’t both intending to take charge of Max,” Kinga said, “but since that’s true, we have to figure out some kind of hierarchy for when the three of us are together.” She held out a hand until Jonah handed her the pink highlighter. “Thanks, sunshine.”

“I’m just afraid that you’re going to use your power over him against me,” Jonah said, claiming the green one in exchange.

“As if I would let her do that?” Max asked. “I’m not a weapon to be wielded against each other, I’m intending to make you both happier by my involvement with you. I’m not planning on taking orders that will just cause one or the other of you anguish. I get to say no, you know. I have that option and I will use it if I need to.”

“I trust you to do that,” Kinga said. “You’re the best equipped out of us to prevent our misbehavior, after all.”

“A bit of a role reversal, but I’m into it,” Max said. “I wouldn’t be the first submissive keeping their dominant from acting up. As long as you both respect my authority to do so.”

“I mean, you look authoritative even if you’re not trying to be,” Jonah said, and Max gave him a wry look.

“Do I? Or do I just look like a middle aged white man and you assume that’s authoritative by default?”

“Aren’t you like, the fourth highest ranked person in your company? Yeah, you’re authoritative,” Jonah said. Max shrugged. 

“You think he’s more authoritative than I am,” Kinga said scornfully. 

“Well, he’s in charge of a ton of people and you’re in charge of… him, now, so isn’t he?” Kinga threw the highlighter she was holding at Jonah, leaving a pink mark on his cheek and a shocked look on his face. 

“ _No,_ ” Max said. “Stop that right now. Oh my god, am I your submissive or your babysitter? I swear to god the two of you are doing this on purpose to try my patience.”

“Sorry,” Jonah said sheepishly. Kinga folded her arms and sneered until Max clicked his tongue at her.

“...ugh,” she said. “Fine, I’m sorry. But it pisses me off that he dismisses me like this!”

“I’ve spent the past five years not considering you an authority figure, that’s not going to change _now_ , especially not like _this_ ,” Jonah said. “You’re my girlfriend, not my domme. And you’ve _tried_ to push me around before. I’m not about to let you get away with it now.”

“Please tell me this isn’t indicative of how our nights together as a trio are going to go,” Max said. “Please tell me I’m not going to end up playing referee between the two of you on a weekly basis.”

“Please tell me we can spend one night a week with no dynamics in any direction,” Jonah said. “Because I think that’s the only way we’re going to solve this conflict. By taking this dumb power play crap totally out of the picture while we’re together.” Max frowned at Jonah, and Kinga rolled her eyes. “Oh, excuse me for being so _sexually unevolved_ that I get off on being my partner’s equal,” Jonah snapped.

“You’re being an asshole,” Kinga said.

“Can we not kink shame?” Max said. “Because if we’re going to start kink shaming I could make you both feel really bad about yourselves, but that’s not the way I want to live my life.” He gently kicked Jonah’s foot under the table. “Or are you so ashamed of _your_ kinks that you’re just stuck in _everyone’s kinks are shameful_ mode?”

“Well, from what I’ve seen of her domme style, it’s not something I would ever want to aspire to,” Jonah said.

“So do some fucking research! Nobody said the way I do it is the only way to do it, you nitwit,” Kinga snapped.

“You’re going to have to do some research anyways,” Max said. “Especially coming in cold the way you’re doing. I can think of at least eight things I need to give you to read off the top of my head.”

“Oh, now I have to do _homework_ to have a sex life?” 

“You said you didn’t want to do it like a douchelord who read a Fifty Shades book, so _yeah_ ,” Max said. “What did you think, that you could watch a couple YouTube videos to become a competent Dom? This is an investment of effort.”

“The only reason I’m even going along with this is because she refuses to unlock you,” Jonah said sullenly. “If playing by her stupid rules is the only way I get access to you, I’ll do it if I have to, but that doesn’t make it any less stupid. This isn’t some kind of lifestyle I’m chomping at the bit to get into. I obviously don’t get off on bossing people around.”

“You think it’s all stupid?” Max’s voice was dangerously soft. “You think, what, I’m being coerced into this? _That’s_ fucking stupid, Jonah. You know exactly how she and I got involved. It never would have happened if I didn’t want it, and it sure wouldn’t be _continuing_ like this if I didn’t want it. Is the fact that I’m submissive some kind of _imposition_ on you?”

“No, that’s not what I—” 

“Because even if you think we can just turn off the dynamics like flipping a switch, that’s not how I function,” Max said. “I’m submissive. It’s a facet of my personality. It’s not something I’m doing just to please her. And it’s not something I can _stop_ doing just to please _you_.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jonah said desperately. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean— I didn’t mean that _you’re_ stupid, I meant that her keeping you locked up all the time is stupid. I meant the fact that I’m being roped into at least that part of _your_ power play whether I want to be or not is stupid.” He sighed, pulled his glasses off and let them clatter on the table, and dropped his face into his cupped hands with a groan. “Fuck, none of this is coming out the way I mean it.”

“He’s not really kinky,” Kinga said, almost compassionately. “Just cause he’s into a couple of weird things doesn’t mean he understands kink at all. He’s… vanilla with sprinkles.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Max said.

“I am, though,” Jonah said. “Basically vanilla. I’m _not_ complicated. I have zero interest in hurting you, or subjugating you, or telling you to do anything you’re even slightly reluctant to do just because it would please me.”

“I’m not even slightly reluctant to give you what you want, though,” Max said.

“Yeah, I know, you were pretty aggressive about making sure you got to give it to me.”

“If you really don’t want anything to do with dynamics in how you and I interact, _say so._ Don’t keep acting like you can kind of do it. You can’t be half a Dom. Either you do it or you don’t do it, but I won’t let you halfass it with me.”

“Fine, then, I don’t want it! I don’t want a submissive, I want a partner, okay? I want you to just want me for me and not the power I wield over you, okay?” Jonah’s eyes were wild and almost frightened when he lifted his head, and Max sighed and reached out to take his hand.

“That’s all you had to say,” Max said. “Still a misunderstanding of the nature of the beast, but not one I feel the need to correct if you really want nothing to do with it. I’m sorry if you felt manipulated into engaging with something that makes you uncomfortable.”

“You’re not the one who needs to apologize for that,” Jonah said, and Kinga scoffed.

“I’m not apologizing for your delicate sensibilities, sunshine. I was here first. If you don’t like the way I do things, that’s your problem, not mine.”

“You never apologize for anything, I hardly expect you to start here,” Jonah said, curling his lip. “Why would you _ever_ do anything to accomodate my comfort when you can just get your way all the time?”

“For the record, I _am_ in favor of being unlocked,” Max said. “And if that’s the thing that’s making him feel manipulated into the dynamic and the rest of it isn’t a problem, removing that factor does seem like the more fair thing to do.”

“You said you would be fair, not nice,” Jonah reminded Kinga. She rolled her eyes.

“ _You_ said you were interested in taking control, and apparently you were lying through your teeth.” 

“ _You_ were coercing me into participating in _your_ kink. How is that fair?”

“When did you ever indicate that you felt this strongly about it? You didn’t freak out about it yesterday.”

“I was in _shock_ yesterday. I went from thinking I was having a night out drinking with my cute new partner to having him on his knees in front of me in like twenty minutes.”

“In your defense, I was putting a lot of effort into stunning you,” Max said. Kinga snorted.

“All right, mindblower. _Fine_ , if it’s really ruining everything for you, the cage can come off. But I want to be the one who takes it off for good.”

“Well, obviously,” Jonah said. “Like I’d try to deprive you of _that_? Just make it soon.”

“Tonight would be ideal,” Max said. “If we’re going to adhere to the schedule we talked out yesterday.” 

“I was already completely planning on unlocking you tonight based on the schedule we talked out yesterday,” Kinga said. “You looked _delicious_ playing with Jonah, I was not going to wait until Thursday to get my hands on you.”

“I suppose it was naive of me to think we’d have dinner after we finished talking,” Max said dryly, and Kinga waved a hand. 

“We can order in after we’re done. I don’t think you’ll be fit to handle kitchen implements after I’ve had my way with you,” Kinga purred. 

“Sounds promising,” Max said, and looked at Jonah. “Care to add anything?”

“I’m just going to submit my paperwork,” Jonah said, and pushed his page at Max, a fair bit more pink than green.

“Oh, now you’re going to make _me_ do homework,” Max said, and glanced down the page briefly before looking back up at Jonah with wider eyes. “Oh _really_.”

“What’s making you say that?” Jonah asked, turning pink already. 

“Restraint but not bondage?” Max looked down at Jonah’s hands and grinned. “I can work with that. In fact, I have something perfect for you to hold me against.”

“He hasn’t seen the room,” Kinga laughed. “Oh, I know the _exact_ shade of red he’s going to turn as soon as he walks through the door.” She pushed her list at Max too. “All right, sweetness, you’re the organizational mastermind, you choose the menu.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Max said, and Jonah didn’t scoff, just put one hand on Max’s leg under the table. Smirking, Kinga put her hand on Max’s other thigh and squeezed. “I don’t think we’re _entirely_ done with this conversation, but… it can be resumed. Will be resumed. We’re just hitting pause. We’re coming back to this. Later.”

“Whatever you say, precious,” Jonah said, and Max shivered a little as his fingers slid higher.

“Hey, Max… remember when I said this wasn’t Pretty Woman, and you thought there wasn’t going to be a happy ending?” Kinga purred, digging her nails into his inner thigh.

“I didn’t get a sex worker to fall in love with me,” Max said immediately. “I got a goddess and her consort to fall in love with me. I’m way more into this version of the mythology.”


End file.
